V: The Toxin Scandal (Draft 1-December 2010)
by Tamie K
Summary: Draft 1 of 12. Posted for comparative purposes only. Don't read this story unless you've read draft 12. Prequels and sequels tie into draft 12.
1. A Dissolution of Love

**_Prologue_**

December 29, 1984...

A concrete stairwell leading to the secret entryway of Los Angeles former famous nightspot, The Club Creole, was where Juliet Parrish found herself sitting one late December evening in 1984. A cool wind sent chills down her neck, and she pulled a black cardigan sweater up around her small shoulders.

Tonight was an evening for reflection. Her cover working as a top biochemist for Los Angeles self-appointed Mayor, Nathan Bates, while spying for the local resistance movement was blown. She knew that Bates suspected her involvement with the resistance for months, but until now had not been able to prove it. But the men he sent to follow Julie eventually succeeded, snapping photos of her with her rebel friends, out in the open dining area of the Club Creole, doing of all things, singing America the Beautiful, in an attempt to help make a stand against a Visitor who had been pounding away his own people's national anthem on the club's piano.

Julie found it ironic, that what exposed her as a resistance member was leading a moment of patriotism. Snapshots of she and co-leaders Mike Donovan and Ham Tyler were taken and sent back to Nathan Bates as proof. Julie returned to work to be confronted by Bates himself, and was slyly warned that her acquaintances and their meeting place were about to be blown to kingdom come. She arrived just in time to see the explosions as they occurred. Much to her own relief, her friends had suspected the pending destruction, and realigned the blasts in such a way as to save themselves and the headquarters housed beneath the building. Mike Donovan and the others were safe.

Being unprepared for a life of going underground again, Julie's concern grew. She wanted to go home and get some of her belongings, but knew Bates would probably have someone there waiting for her. And, the way Nathan had not so subtly expressed his own physical desire to have her this past year, the thought of being arrested by his men was even more worrisome.

She thought about the affect Bates not-so-subtle advances had on her relationship with Mike. On several occasions Julie had been angered by hiss blatant jealousy and accusations, and the couple had fought and argued over the situation just as often. The whole allegation that she would go that far with Bates to get information had disgusted her to no end. Mike proved himself to be a jealous jerk all too often. For a few seconds, Julie considered that maybe now since she was away from Bates and her work at Science Frontiers, she and Mike could sort through their differences and work things out. She missed the intimate moments they shared, no matter how few and far between they had been. She thought of the other things that interfered in their relationship. From the beginning he'd always placed getting his son Sean back from the Visitors, and putting the lad through de-conversion therapy, above Julie and his relationship. As if it weren't bad enough to be competing with the ever-absent Sean Donovan, one day last summer Mike's ex, Margie had waltzed back into his life unexpectedly, after letting him think she was dead for two years. While Mike spent time "getting to know" his ex-wife again, Julie found herself dealing with bouts of morning sickness. It turned out that Margie had been converted by Diana, and planted as a spy in the resistance. She was killed during a resistance raid gone wrong. Julie miscarried the child she and Mike would have shared together. He only learned about the baby after it was too late.

Julie tried not to think about her miscarriage too much because it always made her sad. A part of her wanted to experience motherhood. She knew that had the child survived, it would've been due in just a few short months. Having Mike's baby would not have been compatible with her life as a spy for the resistance, or being a militia leader for that matter either. She realized maybe it was just as well...

Inside the common room, housed beneath the former Club Creole, a small group of resistance fighters lounged around. Robin and Elizabeth Maxwell were using what little food supplies Elias Taylor had managed to scrounge up from his pantry, to craft a dinner that would feed the small cadre of people. Kyle Bates, Ham Tyler, Chris Faber and a few less known male members were seated around the main table discussing their latest plan for a raid.

Inside one of the smaller rooms that was used has the male dormitory, Mike Donovan sat on his cot, sorting through a small collection of trinkets he kept, things which held their value from various friends, family members and people he'd held dear over the years. Inside that box was a Fernando Valenzuela baseball card he'd purchased just before the Visitors came. He was going to surprise Sean and give it to him for his 10th birthday. But that day never came. The boy had been abducted, along with his mother and the town's people. Mike got Sean back almost a year later, only to find his son wasn't interested in baseball anymore, and that Diana had brainwashed him. After the first war, Mike spent a great deal of his salary to try help Sean. When the war started again, it wasn't long before the Visitors nabbed the younger Donovan, and the nightmare started all over again.

Mike gently tucked the baseball card back in its plastic sleeve. His fingers moved to the next object, an engraved Cross pen and pencil which was just one of a few things Julie had given him, Christmas of '83. He remembered the present he gave her too, a small pearl handled pistol. He'd spent an extra thirty dollars to have Irish phrase "Gra Dilseacht Cairdeas" inscribed on it which meant..."Love, Loyalty, Friendship." Back then, he'd planned to marry Julie, just as soon as he knew Sean was going to be okay and she was through with her remaining schooling at UCLA. Their lives had changed so much since then. Now, not a day went by this past month when he wondered if he hadn't lost her. She was always distracted and they had no time to themselves anymore. Mike knew he'd contributed to a lot of the strain that had been in their relationship. He could easily think of a few excuses as to why he acted the way he did, but most of it he blamed on the uncertainty of them staying together.

Thinking of Julie, he realized he hadn't heard her voice among the chatter of his fellow comrades in the next room. He replaced the lid on his shoebox of trinkets and tucked it under the cot. Then, he joined the others in the main room and saw that Julie wasn't with them, so he went to the other small room which housed the woman's dormitory. She wasn't there either. He checked the makeshift kitchen only to find Elias and Willie concocting some side dish for the evening meal.

"Have you guys seen Julie?" he asked.

"She's outside, man." Elias looked at him. "Better get her in before they spot her."

Mike nodded, knowing the possibility of Bate's henchmen patrolling the neighborhood in pursuit of any resistance member that might come back to the remains of the Club Creole. He headed for the back door, and padded up the concrete steps where he found Julie sitting.

"It's cold out here," he sat next to her. "We were worried about you."

"We," she said skeptically. "Does that mean more you or them?"

He slipped his right arm around her shoulder and felt her tense. "How are you doing?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"I've been hoping we could talk."

"Me too."

He grabbed her hand, pulling her to a standing position. "Maybe we should go for a walk."

"Dontcha think maybe they'll come find us?" she said with a knowing grin.

He chuckled, realizing she thought he had something else in mind. "I don't think we'll be gone too long."

Moments later he stood beside her inside the remains of an abandoned deli. They headed to the back room to be out of view from the front picture windows, but where just enough light was cast so they could still see their way around the room.

He stared at her, not knowing where to begin, or if it was just a mistake coming here to try to deal with the inevitable.

"What?" she asked.

"It's been a long time for us." He watched as she glanced around the empty room.

"Oh, Mike... I don't think this is the place."

"No, that isn't why I brought you here. We do need to talk about things."

"I know."

He studied her expression, and the way the light reflected off of her baby blues. "It isn't working for us anymore, is it?"

Julie blinked away some tears. "I don't know. I guess I haven't been trying very hard lately," She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. "I'm sorry."

Smoothing her blond shimmer of hair he patted her on the shoulder.

"Tell me what you're feeling," she said.

"I don't know. I mean- "he paused. "Sometimes I want to approach you and I don't know if there's anything left, or how you'll react."

"Do you still," she gazed up at him, "love me?"

"Would it make a difference if I said yes? I mean would things get better for us, Julie?"

She pulled back from him, bringing both her hands to her face, trying to hide the tears.

"Please look at me." When he saw that he had her attention he said, "I'm not trying to hurt you, you know that. We have to be fair to each other. Aren't you tired of wondering about us?"

She buried her face in his chest again and he felt her tears soaking through his shirt. He wanted to kiss her and make it all better. He wanted to think that they would be okay. A part of him needed to hear her say she still cared and wanted to try, and if that happened he'd find a place where they could stay the night together, even if it meant going back to the HQ and telling the others they just needed to get away for the evening. Still, he knew one night with her wouldn't settle the uncertainty of it all.

After a few minutes, Julie moved her head again. "I love you. I didn't want it to end like this, but-"

"It's okay. We tried," he searched for the words to try to comfort her, but instead, found his own tears starting to fall. He hoped she wouldn't notice, or know how that this was just as difficult for him. His voice cracked as he told her, "We had some really good times together, kid."

"Yeah, we did."

He pulled her close for another hug before they went back to headquarters. Their lives changed now. they would have to go back in there among their friends and try to act as if neither of them was going through the pain of a breakup.


	2. Destructive Nature of Lies

Chapter 1: The Destructive Nature of Lies

The Visitors departure from earth during the second invasion had come sudden and unexpected. Resistance groups around the world dispersed, and their members tried to get back to assuming somewhat normal lives. But the world they lived in was far from normal. It still bore the scars of battle.

Cities around the globe remained in a constant state of rebuilding, and trying to put back together what once was. War ravaged buildings were torn down, while others were reconstructed in their place. But problems remained with the earth's own ecology. A toxin once used to rid the world of the Visitors during the first war, continued to reproduce in areas above the frost belt, contaminating fresh water resources, and wreaking havoc with the lives of plants, animals and humans that were dependent on them.

One woman understood the destructive nature of the toxin. Unlocking its mysteries had become her life's work these past few years. Juliet Parrish was a dedicated biochemist who spent long hours in the laboratory studying samples of the red dust and the life forms it so negatively affected. In a way, Julie felt responsible for what was going on right before her very eyes, because she and her deceased ex-colleague, Anthropologist Dr. Robert Maxwell were the ones who developed the toxin back in 1983. Julie herself had been the leader of the Los Angeles resistance group. While many people still considered her actions as heroic, there were others who questioned her reasoning in endorsing a bacterial weapon that's effects had been wreaking havoc with the world these past four years.

Julie shifted on a stool in her lab, the small of her back tightening in pain. She had been sitting there these past two hours, studying some water samples which were freshly flown in from the state of Washington last night. She pulled away from the white microscope and rubbed her eyes wearily.

A blond, tall researcher by the name of Dr. Steve Maitland, came in the lab, carrying a cup of coffee in each hand.

"It's almost time to wrap up for the evening," he announced.

Julie gazed over at a small black and white TV set which flickered with broken reception

Recognizing the familiar face of the news reporter Mike Donovan filling the screen Julie said, "Turn it up, please."

Steve set Julie's cup in front of her, and reached over for the knob on the TV.

The image panned out to reveal Donovan's location.

"I'm at Science Frontiers, here in southern Los Angeles," he explained to his audience. "Which once manufactured the red dust and its antidote."

The news camera panned out even wider, as another familiar face filled the screen. Donovan was standing next to Dr. William Pico, who had also worked with Julie at Science Frontiers.

"This facility, once ran by Nathan Bates is where Dr. Pico and many others conducted experiments to test the toxins effects on plant life." Mike Donovan turned to the graying old man. "Dr. Pico, can you tell us about what you and your associates found in regards to plant and mammal life in this area?

Julie blinked, both annoyed and confused. If you want to know about the harmful affects of the red dust, why didn't you call me first, Mike?

It had been well over a year since Julie last saw or heard from Mike Donovan. After the war he had busied himself , trying to help his teenage son recover from the Visitor's brainwashing techniques. As Julie tried to reestablish herself as a reputable scientist in her community, she and Mike grew farther apart.

"Dr. Parrish never tried to create a new toxin. She said it wasn't necessary, that the old formula wasn't as bad as it seemed."

What? Julie thought, knowing the opposite were true.

She continued to listen as Pico rattled off some more lies about the work she did for Nathan Bates. None of it made sense to her. When Donovan's interview was over, Julie clicked off the set, furious.

"I'm calling the station," she announced, fumbling for the Pacific Bell Yellow Pages which was tucked under her lab counter.

Steve stood by and watched her pick up the phone while sipping his coffee.

"WKKG Action News," the girl in the news room answered.

"This is Dr. Juliet Parrish, former L.A. Resistance leader. I need to speak with Mike Donovan."

"Mr. Donovan's on assignment. Do you wish to leave a message?"

"Yes, I would. Tell Donovan I need to speak with him about his interview with Dr. Pico. Tell him I said the man lied to him, and he needs to call me right away."

"Okay," the girl paused, sounding stunned by Julie's accusation.

"Do you have a number where he can reach you, Dr. Parriish?"

"My home number is 560-9898 and my work number is 467-2549"

"Okay. I will have him call you as soon as he gets in."

"Thank you. Bye." Julie hung up the phone and looked over at Steve.

"What do you thinks going on?" he asked.

"I have no clue." She gathered documents that were strewn across her desk, then rinsed glass vials which were once filled with contaminated water, and put them back in their appropriate test tube containers.

Steve made a motion to his watch. "It's almost six. Are you going to wait for Donovan to call?"

"Mmm hmm."

Gathering his tan spring jacket with one hand, and the styrofoam cup with the other, Steve paused by the doorway. "I'd like to know what he said. If you'll call me later, or maybe we can just talk."

About us? Julie wondered. She already knew the answer.

"Maybe," was all she managed to say, hoping Steve would get the hint she didn't want to deal with him now.

He slipped on his coat, giving her a dismal stare, before heading outside. Julie turned and picked up some files from her desk.

Mike Donovan was not so surprised to hear Julie Parrish's voice on the phone that evening. She demanded to meet with him right away, and he knew just the place for such a meeting. Kelley's Irish Pub, which was not too far from WKKG and had become a favorite haunt of Mike's these past few months. The atmosphere seemed to ease his troubles with Sean, and the waitress named Becky was becoming a good listener.

Sitting in a dark, mahogany wooden booth, Mike peered up at an oval shaped emerald green sign advertising Guinness Beer, and thought he would have something different from his usual Coors tonight. He pulled a yellow pad of paper along with a black retractable pencil from his briefcase, and waited for his company to arrive.

Mike occupied himself by writing questions he would ask Julie, when he heard her familiar voice.

"Hi, Mike."

She stood to the side of the booth, giving him a once over. Mike glanced up at her. She smiled, showing her dimples.

Still beautiful, he thought to himself, admiring the way her long blond curly hair cascaded around her neck.

"Hi, Doc."

Julie took a seat across from him as Becky came over to take the drink order.

"Coors tonight, Michael?" she asked.

"Guinness," he corrected.

Smiling, Becky turned her yellow pencil around and began to erase what she had written. "Trying to throw me off tonight, are you? Who's your friend?"

"This is Julie."

Becky studied the pretty woman sitting across from Mike. "Oh, you must be the one he talks about. What can I get for you, hon?"

"Diet Coke is fine," she said.

After Becky had gone away Mike's attention was drawn back to his company.

"You come here often?" she asked.

"Some," he muttered, wondering what she'd think of him if he knew exactly how often he came here. "How have you been?"

"Fine."

"You keep yourself hidden away pretty well. I've been trying to find you for weeks now. I wanted to talk to you about this situation first. I'm glad you called the station."

"Your number is unpublished too," she said, pulling a small notepad out of her purse. "Can I have it?"

It made him wonder if she had tried to contact him before this evening, and he regretted not having kept in contact with his former resistance friends. He took the pad of paper from her and jotted the number down. "What have you been doing with yourself these past couple years?"

"Still doing research on the ecoeffects of the red dust. How'd fatherhood treating you?"

"Sean's been at a psychiatric center for ex-converts." He felt ashamed to admit it.

"I'm sorry." She looked down as if she felt bad for asking.

"He's just not stable enough to be let out yet."

"And what about you? Are you hanging in there okay?"

"I'm pretty occupied by my work too," he admitted.

The skinny, twenty-something, red headed waitress returned, sliding Julie's drink in front of her, and then she gave Mike his mug of Irish brew.

After Becky had left again, Mike picked up his own pencil and started to write, asking Julie, "You want to tell me about this company you work for?"

Julie leaned back against her seat. "This is off the record, Mike. I really don't want them mentioned in the report. Right now, I'm just not sure what to make of Pico lying about my research work at Science Frontiers."

"Okay."

"I'm presently working on fresh water treatments in the areas where the toxin in still regenerating."

Mike started to write down what she had said, but Julie placed her right hand on his and said "Stop."

He tossed his pencil aside muttering, "What? You don't trust your old Pal, Mr. Donovan?"

"Old Pal," she teased. "Is that what you thought it was?"

Digging his hands in a basket of peanuts, he cracked a shell. "Cut the crap, Julie. You want me to help you? I'm listening. But I need your trust. And as far as I'm concerned there's no reason why I shouldn't get it."

"Fine!" she glared at him. "Off the record?"

"Whatever."

Julie tucked the small notepad back in her purse. "Anyway," she sighed. "Steve Maitland and I have been working on this project for about-"

"Maitland?" Mike remembered Julie's ex from med school. He'd met him aboard the mothership, just before the second war ended. Maitland had been forced into working for the Visitors.

"Uh huh," Julie said. "Why don't we just get onto the subject of Dr. Pico lying?"

He wondered if she was deliberately changing the subject. He glanced down at her left hand and saw no wedding ring. She noticed the gesture.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"I was wondering about you and Maitland."

"We work together. I just told you th—"

"—Sorry!"

"What about you, Mike. Got a girlfriend?"

"Between Sean and work, are you kidding?"

He watched as her mouth turned to a knowing grin and she muttered, "Well, I guess if there were a Mrs. Donovan at home, you wouldn't be spending so much time here with that girl talking about me, now would you?"

"She exaggerates. I haven't said that much."

Julie giggled. Their eyes met and locked for a few seconds. Feeling uncomfortable, Mike reached for his pencil again. "Why don't you just tell me what you want the world to know?"

"I want them to know about my work in trying to find a new toxin during the war, and about those who died for the cause."

"What were their names?"

"Umm…." she paused, thinking. "Let's see, uh Andy Halpern, umm… Amelia Anderson, Bill Kendall and Juan Perez."

"Why don't you tell me about the research? I vaguely remember." He found himself wanting to tell her how sorry he was for the failure of their relationship, and how much he'd missed her, but didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. He figured if she wasn't letting on about her and Maitland, then that was her business.

"Maybe I should just start from the beginning." Julie sipped her Coke. "When Robert Maxwell and I created the toxin to use on the Visitors during the first war, we did extensive testing to see that it was not harmful to humans or other species on earth, including plants and animals. We created an antidote for the Visitors who wanted to help our cause. Maybe in your report you could fill in about how we dispersed it into the atmosphere. No sense in going into all that now."

"Right."

"You know when Bates hired me in it was to oversee the mothership project and to aid in the manufacturing of the red dust. So I continued to test biological samples to see there wasn't any harm to species on earth. It wasn't until a year after we released it into the earth's atmosphere, on Liberation Day, that we began to really notice the damage it caused. When the Visitors returned, I was put in charge of overseeing the development of a new toxin that wouldn't be harmful, but we never succeeded. Bates sent me to work with Dr. Andy Halpern and his people at the Catalina Island facility. But Diana found out about it, and they were slaughtered."

He nodded, remembering her frustration with the ordeal. "After that happened, I just continued my work monitoring the red dust's effects We lost a lot of important data with the camp on Catalina Island being destroyed. But I'm sure there has to be numerous records of my work down at Science Frontiers, if Kyle hasn't sold it yet."

"Well if you think there's still evidence, it would be easy to prove Pico's lying. I'll call Kyle and see if he will let me look for it. But just in case, you wouldn't have anything in your possession to prove your case, would you?"

"I'll look," she said, glancing down at her watch.

The expression on her face made him think she had someplace else she needed to be, maybe a date with Maitland.

"Do you think Kyle will be willing to help us? I think he still holds a grudge because we let Elizabeth go with the Visitors."

Mike agreed with her assumption. After all the kid had tried to stow away on the Leader's shuttle, but was eventually discovered, arrested and returned to the resistance base along with Sean Donovan.

"I don't see why not," he tried to reassure her. "If he has any respect for you, I'm sure he'll help."

"Alright . But if you can get in, I'd like to go with you. Maybe I can help you find what you're looking for."

"I'm hip. You still own a gun, don't you?"

"Yes. If I remember right, it was a present from you."

"Then I'm glad you kept it."

Julie got up. "I'm sorry I can't stay long now. We can talk some more after we look for those files."

Mike smiled and stood to his feet, drawing Julie close to himself for a hug.

"It was good to see you, Old Pal," she smiled up at him.

"You too, kid."


	3. Negligent Sitter

**Chapter 2**

Grabbing a hold of a long black railing to help herself along, Julie hurried up the flight of steps to her Santa Monica, beach front apartment. She was late. When she reached the landing at the top of the stairs, she saw her dear friend Maggie there with baby C.J. Faber in her arms. Maggie looked disappointed.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry," Julie muttered an apology, reaching for her keys. She quickly unlocked the door.

"Work late tonight?" Maggie asked.

"No, I had a bit of an emergency." Julie stepped inside, and tossed her purse on the couch. Maggie followed toting the baby on her left hip. She tried put set him down on the floor. He was over a year now and able to stand on his own. Barely walking, he liked to toddle around holding onto things.

"What? Was there an explosion in the lab?" her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"No, I had to meet with Donovan at a pub over by his work."

"Sounds more like a date than an emergency."

"It was business."

"Something to do with WKKG?" Again, Maggie tried to put the boy down, but he grasped for her jeans once his feet hit the floor. "I saw the news a bit ago. I was wondering about that."

Seeing CJ wasn't about to let his mother go without protest Julie set on the couch behind her, offering the boy a Disney book they'd left behind the last time she'd sat for him. "I was so angry I had to get a hold of Mike, and I forgot to call you. Donovan's going to try to help me clear up this mess. He thinks he can get Kyle to let us into Science Frontiers. If I can get my hands on some of the documents from the projects we worked on I can expose Dr. Pico"

"Sounds serious. Are you planning on taking him to court?

"I don't know yet."

The blond haired toddler finally grabbed the book from Julie and stood for a few brief seconds on his own, then plopped to the floor, opening the book and patting it with his tiny hands.

"Good job, CJ," Julie smiled down at him.. He looked up at her, with big and alert blue eyes. Julie made a motion to his mother and she slipped out of the apartment. Engrossed in the images of Mickey Mouse and Pluto, little CJ didn't even notice she was gone.

Julie got up and grabbed the bottles from CJ's diaper bag, taking them to the kitchen.

The baby looked around himself, searching for Maggie only to discover she wasn't there.

"Ma… ma… ma.," he babbled, pulling himself into a crawling position. He tried to keep up with his sitter as she headed towards the fridge. She was too far and he gave up. He started crying. "Ma! Ma!"

He still carried on as Julie picked him up off the floor. "It's okay, buddy. Aunt Julie's taking care of you tonight."

"Ma! Ma! Ma!"

The blue phone sitting Julie's end table started ringing.

"Shh," Julie said, pressing a kiss to CJ's chubby right cheek. She reached for the phone. "Hello."

"I just got off the phone with Kyle." Mike said. "Sounds like you've got company. Want me to call back?"

"No, just hang on a minute."

She put the receiver down, and carried CJ back into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle. With her free hand she popped the cap off letting it fall on the kitchen floor. She shoved the bottle in CJ's mouth and he clasped his tiny hands around it, starting to suck between sobs. Julie sat down on the couch and shifted him into a lying position, his little head resting on her right arm. She picked up the phone with her left. "Sorry about that."

"Who's kid?"

"Maggie and Chris. I forgot I was sitting for them tonight. She just left and he's not too happy about it."

"They have a kid?

"Yeah, he just turned a year. See, that's what happens when you don't keep up with your old friends."

"I'll ignore that."

Julie chuckled. "You were saying you talked to Kyle?"

"Yeah. He said he'll be there at 10 A.M.. You game or will you still have company?"

"She's picking CJ up at eight thirty."

"That's cutting it close. Should I call him back and reschedule?"

"No, I think we're okay."

"Then I'll see you in the morning."

No sooner did Julie hang up the phone than it started to ring again. She picked it up asking, "Miss me already, Donovan?"

"No, it's me," Steve informed her.

Julie felt her stomach knot up, dreading listening to Steve plea with her for her safety. "Hi."

"Did you find out what's going on with the Doctor from Science Frontiers?"

"Not exactly yet. Mike and I are meeting again tomorrow to do some investigating of our own."

"Investigating?"

"I can't give you the exact details now, but I'll tell you about it at lunch on Monday."

"You didn't tell him about our work, did you?"

"Not too much information." She propped CJ's bottle up with her right hand as his little fingers fell down into a resting position on his chest. He would soon be asleep and she hadn't had the chance to set up the port-a-crib kept in her spare bedroom.

"Yeah, well word gets out to the media and you can kiss our contract goodbye, and we both could use the commendations."

"I trust Mike. He's not going to repeat anything I tell him not to."

"Well I'll have to trust your judgment on that, Julie. Oh," he paused for a second. "Your mom called. I told her you were out. I thought she knew you moved out."

"I haven't talked to her in a few months," she said defensively. "I'll call her soon."

"I still think your leaving is a mistake. We need to talk some more."

"I'm sorry. I can't deal with this now. I'm watching CJ."

"Okay, I guess I'll see you on Monday. But whatever you and Donovan are planning, be careful."

"Don't worry. He even told me to bring a gun."

"Sound's dangerous."

"I don't think it is."

CJ's eyes closed, but he continued to suck. Gently, Julie pulled the bottle out of his mouth.

"Just be careful. I know you probably don't want to hear it anymore, but I still care for you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'll be fine," she said, without a doubt in her mind, "I'm going to go now. I need to put the baby down. My arm's asleep."

"Bye."

"Bye."

With a click the phone was laid in its cradle. Julie used her left arm to further give support to CJ's limp body as she stood. He didn't stir even as she carried him into the den and laid him on the floor. Julie reached for and unfolded the tiny wooden port-a-crib. She'd become accustomed to sitting for CJ every Friday evening. Maggie Blodgett and Chris Faber lived just down the street in a two bedroom house they purchased not long after he moved back from Chicago. He had not been willing to move on with his life and get over Maggie. Julie didn't know the reason why the couple had not married yet, but she knew when they did she would be a part of the ceremony.

* * *

A/N: Compare to Draft 12, Chapter 2


	4. What Not to Wear on a Rendezvous

**3 What Not to Wear on a Rendezvous**

Mike was first to pull into the parking lot of Science Frontiers in his dark blue Toyota Camry. His selection of clothing for today's activities bore an air of familiarity about them. He donned a black pair of jeans and a black turtleneck. Underneath the ensemble he wore a bullet proof vest.

Julie pulled up in her candy apple red Limited Edition ,87 Camaro, parking right next to him. She got out of her vehicle, giggling, seeing how serious he was taking this so-called "mission." All she wanted was her research records, but Mike seemed to be more than prepared for a quick journey in and out of a building. His ensemble reminded her of their prior adventures with the resistance.

Mike eyed her in disbelief. She wore a navy blue tank to with the tie of a white bikini top clearly showing at her neckline. Her long hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Shielding her beautiful baby blues from the bright sunshine were a pair of sleek white Oakleys. . The bottom half of her outfit consisted of a pair of blue jean cutoffs. He could only guess she had a matching white bikini bottom on underneath. The dress sandals on her feet and freshly painted red toenails didn't seem to belong to a woman who would want to hurry up and get away from any danger that could come her way.

"Got plans for the day, Doc?"

"I was planning on taking a ride out to Venice Beach after we're through here. You look like you're ready for a battle." She followed him, carrying her white crocheted handbag. "Where's Kyle?

"Not here yet. Where's your gun?"

She dug in the bag, finding the pearl handled pistol buried underneath a cosmetics case , suntan lotion and wallet, then tucked it in the front of her waistline. Mike reached down, pulled the gun out of her pants, and counted six bullets in the chamber. He fired one just to make sure it was still in good working condition.

"Have you used it in a while?"

"No, should I have?"

"If necessary, I guess. You clean it?"

Julie was relieved to see a black Nissan Pickup Truck approaching and recognized the driver. Ignoring Mike's question, she headed over to the space where Kyle parked.

The dark haired twenty something year old male stepped out of his vehicle.

"How have you been, Kyle?" Julie asked.

"What do you care?" he snapped. "You just want to clear your good name?"

She felt her heart sink in her chest seeing the forgiveness she'd hoped he'd find for her still was not there. "Hon, I'm sorry about Elizabeth. I know how much you loved her. But it's been two years."

"No you don't know," he said bitterly. "You're not alone like me. You have each other."

"I'm not with her," Mike interjected. "She's uh," he paused. "You remember Dr. Maitland?"

"Mike?" Julie snapped, knowing what he was both assuming and implying. "SHUT UP!"

Undaunted by Julie's outburst, Kyle slipped a set of keys into Mike's hand. "The red one's for the dead bolt." He indicated the plastic rings around the top of each key. "And the yellow one opens the bottom lock."

Julie felt cool metal slide into her right hand as Mike returned her gun.

"I think the files are in the basement. I moved them about a year ago," Kyle added. "I'm going to sell. I just don't know when."

Kyle only followed them halfway up the main walk, unwilling to go inside with them.

"Not coming?" Mike asked.

"No, I've got some things to take care of. I'll be back in an hour. Meet me here." He turned towards his truck.

"Looks like it's just you and me then," Mike glanced over at Julie, sticking the silver key in the top lock and then the other in the lower lock. But he was surprised to find each one was already unlocked and had no problem opening the door at all.

The familiar Science Frontier's logo greeted Julie as she stepped into the main lobby. So did an eerie feeling. This was the very hall through which she passed by security's desk each morning for nearly a year.

Mike found a pair of flashlights behind the main desk just where Kyle said they would be.

When the front doors were shut, it grew dark inside, aside from a few windows which shed very little light down empty corridors. Julie clicked on her flashlight and shone its beam down a hallway off to her left. She made her way to what used to be the office of Nathan Bates, with Mike not far behind her. But she was walking much faster than he and her lack of caution concerned him.

"Julie, slow down."

"I know my way around." She turned and snatched the set of keys from him.

She remembered how she hated the way Nathan kept her at close range, with her office adjacent to his. The only thing that separated them was a glass partition and a set of electric powered mini blinds which he could raise and lower without warning. Julie didn't miss those days, or the constant knots in her stomach and feeling like her every move was being monitored.

Julie found the door to what had been her office was open. She waved her flashlight around to get a full view of the room. Mike tried to help her by doing the same with his own. The counters were empty. There was no lab equipment. No computers. No nothing. Even the drawers in her former desk were emptied out.

"I guess we have to find the room Kyle mentioned." Julie turned, making her way out of the two adjoining offices, and back down the lengthy, narrow hallway from which they came..

She walked quickly, using her flashlight and also her hands to feel for her location.

"It's a wonder you can walk so fast with those shoes on," Mike muttered, seeing her push on a metal bar attached to one of the big doors at the end of the hall.

She rushed down a flight of stairs. He tailed after her. "Aren't you afraid?"

"No, frankly I'm angry," she confided looking around. There were several doors leading to several rooms which she'd never had access to, not even with her security clearance. But it had to be one of these rooms which Kyle spoke of. She wished he'd given them a room number.

"Kyle did seem a little cocky. I guess I should have warned you," Mike agreed.

"I wasn't talking about Kyle." She unlocked and turned the handle to the door of one of the rooms.

Again, Mike shone his flashlight around the room along with hers as they'd done upstairs. "Are you mad at me?"

With a roll of her eyes, Julie slammed the door. Not answering, she headed to the next locked entry.

Mike remembered her reaction to his mentioning of Steve Maitland. "Okay, whatever I did that was wrong, I'm sorry."

Julie turned another key in this door after trying some of the other keys first. At the rate things were going, Kyle would come back before she even found her files, she mused. She wielded her light into the darkened room. There were stacks and stacks of lab tables and boxes piled to the ceiling.

The stringy feeling of a cobweb brushed across Julie's face as she walked further into the room. She held her light up, reading the labels.

"Do you think they're here?" Mike raised his own light, reading some of the box contents himself.

Microscopes. Vials. Petri Dishes..

He reached up and pulled one of the boxes down, not believing Kyle would just let all this valuable equipment go to waste. Surely he could sell it to some company and make a killing off of it. The heaviness of its weight told Mike the box was labeled correctly. It was full of expensive microscopes.

By the time he returned the box back to its home, Julie left the room and was back out in the hallway attempting to unlock the next door. A musty burnt smell offended her nostrils as she shoved the door open. A quick passing of the flashlight confirmed her fear… Burned cardboard, paper and ashes filled the room. She choked.. She could only guess what those boxes had once contained.

"You okay?" asked Mike, joining her at the entry. His flashlight revealed the same telling story of destruction.

A powdery grey substance lapped at Julie's toes as she entered the room. She was going to be dirty and it didn't phase her. She bent down, trying to find the most in tact piece of paper, which though burned around the edges was about the size of a large index card. She read the phrase "Toxin Sample A" and a date of June 3rd, 1984 in the heading at the top. The rest of the words faded to black, stained from soot and smoke.

Her small fingers groped for more papers, hoping to find any which would reveal more information. Another small singed paper exposed her laboratory room number and the names of some animals she was experimenting on, but the sentences were unclear, cut off by what had consumed it the rest of the document.

Julie slid down to her knees. The tears began to flow. "All my work," she cried. "I should've called Kyle when I needed these records month ago!"

She thought how she might have been able to use them in her current project, how new research could build off of prior. But she'd been too preoccupied with her unwillingness to ask Kyle for access to these records, and now they'd gone up in smoke and ashes.

Wiping her tears with blackened sooty hands, she sobbed. Mike stepped in. The door he'd been propping open with his left hand gave way and slammed shut startling Julie out of her grief. She watched him try to open the door. The keys were on the outside and it locked. Mike had a hold of the handle and was trying hard to twist and push it. It didn't budge.

* * *

A big red igloo cooler sat on the kitchen counter at Chris Faber and Maggie Blogdett's tiny two bedroom bungalow. Chris poured a plastic bag of Penguin brand ice cubes into it while Little Chris toddled at his feet.

"You ready for your big day, Bud?"

"We should probably stop on the way and pick up a six pack of Diet Coke for Julie." Maggie placed a few of CJ's bottles into the cooler along with some cans of soda purchased during this morning's trip to the local Safeway.

"You sure she won't bring her own?" Chris placed a few packs of lunchmeat, a jar of mayo and some American cheese on top of the cold cubes.

"I don't know. She sounded like she was in a hurry to meet with Mike. She may not have had time to prepare for this trip."

"Well I'm glad you invited her to tag along. She'll be a big help to keep CJ out of the water."

"He's going to wear us all out." Maggie picked up the boy, rubbing her nose against his.

"Cah," the boy muttered shoving a chubby, plastic little car towards her face.

She pushed to toy away, not willing to take a full blast in the face with it. "Easy, CJ!"

"We all packed?" Chris picked up to the cooler and started towards the back door which led out to the garage.

"I think so." Maggie followed, snapping CJ into his Cosco Car Seat.


	5. Tears and Ashes

**4 Tears and Ashes**

In Manhattan New York an angry mother sat in her living room, pacing, waiting for her thirty year old daughter who lived on the west coast to call. Connie Parrish was sick of the lack of contact Julie kept with her family, and tired of the excuse that Julie was too busy. If she could give spare time to the attention of Steve Maitland, then surely she could give some to her family back home.

Breaking her promise not to interfere, Connie picked up the phone and dialed Dr. Maitland's South Los Angeles number again.

"Hello," Steve said, sounding groggy.

"Is my daughter there?"

"Uh, no. She-"

"Did you tell her I called?"

"I haven't had the chance. I haven't seen her since yesterday."

"Since yesterday?!" Connie exclaimed. "She didn't come home last night?"

"She moved out a few months ago."

"Oh, " she frowned. "Well then how come you didn't just give me her number last night? What happened, you two have a fight? I was expecting a wedding announcement. Steven, what happened?"

"It's a long story. And probably one that should come from her lips not mine." He paused, sounding like a man who had been defeated by love more than once. "I can give you her number but she might not be there. She's got something going on with Mike Donovan today."

"Donovan?" Connie wondered if her daughter was seeing the ex-resistance leader again, but Steve's next statement put her mind at ease.

"He works for our local ABC affiliate. He's doing a series on toxin ecodamage and spoke to one of her ex colleagues from Science Frontiers, a Dr. William Pico. The guy lied about her research there and she's on the war path to expose him."

"Doesn't Mike believe her? I mean given their history together."

"I don't know, Mrs. Parrish. I can't say I trust him myself right now."

"Why?"

"Maybe because I don't know just how big of a history she has with him."

"Well apparently you're not okay with her leaving you. You're still in love with her?"

"I was never not in love with her."

Connie smiled. She only wished she knew how her daughter felt about him. "Why don't you give me her number anyway? When I do reach her I'll try to talk some sense into her. I know she can be stubborn. She takes after her mother, remember?"

"Yes, I know. It's 560-9898. Same area code."

After the goodbyes were said and Connie had hung up the mustard yellow rotary, she picked it up again and dialed another long distance number.

* * *

Inside Julies tiny apartment the phone rang and rang and rang before the answering machine picked up.

"Dr. Juliet Parrish's residence. I'm sorry I'm unable to take your call now. If you leave your name and number I will get back to you."

"Julie, its Mama. I just got off the phone with Steven. Honey, we haven't talked in a long time. I need to know you're okay," Connie said. "Please call me as soon as you get this Goodbye, honey. I love you."

The brief message waited the playing by its recipient. But it may as well have been one which would never reach her.

* * *

Feeling uncomfortable, coated in ashes and soot, Julie stood to her feet hoping to find something less dirty to rest on.

Mike pressed a side button on his Timex and illuminated the digital readout. "Kyle should be here in about ten minutes or so."

"But will he find us?" Julie asked skeptically brushing the ashes of what once was her files off her short, slender legs.

"We'll figure out something." Mike kept eyeing the window near the top of the ceiling. It was a good 10 feet up. He had a plan, but wasn't even sure if it would work. He looked around the room for some heavy metal object thinking if there were any way he could break the glass they might draw Kyle's attention when he arrived.

"I'm sorry I got you into this mess," he told Julie, seeing her scrounge around in the debris again, still searching and not accepting the evidence before her.

"I don't understand his motives. I want to confront him." Julie was now referring to Dr. Pico. Clearly what had transpired before they got here was nothing short of arson.

"We'll have him arrested." Mike continued to feel around in the rubble with her, but he wasn't looking for the same thing she was.

Julie raised a hand to her nose, trying to stop the flow of drainage, but she only smeared more ashes onto her face.

"I'm sorry you might have to go home and freshen up before you go to the beach," he added.

"You know what? I don't even care about that now. I mean except for Chris and Maggie expecting me."

"Did you tell him about our little rendezvous?"

"Yeah."

Mike saw her wipe her eyes again. He tried to give her a reassuring pat on the back, but she darted away out of his reach, tripping over some remains of boxes. She felt her ankle twist and it burned.

"Sorry," Mike said.

Julie wiped her eyes with her tank top, feeling foolish. She knew she over reacted to his caring gesture and sat down on the dirty floor again, her ankle throbbing. "I think I hurt myself."

She pulled her right foot up in her lap and felt the bone structure. None were broken. "I think I'll live," she finally said after a moment. "I may be limping out of here though."

Mike slid down to the floor beneath him, grateful he had his jeans and turtle neck on. But the air was thick and he was sure his breathing passages might be looking about as dirty as Julie's legs, palms and face were. He cleared his throat.

"Will you accept my apology for being an ass too?"

"You mean because of what you said to Kyle?" she guessed.

"Okay," he lied.

"You just assume things, Mike. You don't know anything that's happened to me these past couple years except for what I told you!"

"So, what does that mean? I'm trying not to ask questions and yet I'm trying to be your friend, and I'm trying to do this report."

Between the ashes and tears, Julie's eyes burned. She used her shirt to rub them again, but it was no use.

"I'm not with Steve anymore, okay? And I'd appreciate it if you don't mention him."

That's it, he thought. I've crossed the line by delving into her personal life, and it wasn't even on purpose ."Okay, again, I'm sorry. I'm sorry getting you into this and sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. Julie, I don't want us to walk away from this being enemies. I think you're upset about a lot of things right now, especially with what Pico's done to your work records. But whatever I might say or do, you need to remember I'm on your side. I have a lot of respect for you. I always have and always will."

She nodded, holding her face in her hands.

"Is your ankle any better?"

"It still hurts."

"Well, when we get out of here, if it's still bad I'll carry you up the stairs. I'm saying that now so you know my intentions are sincere."

His hand passed along a smooth, long metal object on the floor. He picked it up. It was the object he was looking for. "Julie, I know you're in pain, but if I hoist you up can you use this to bust the window up there?"

"I think so." She eased herself into a standing position and hobbled over to the wall beneath the window.

Mike gave her the metal bar, broken off from some unknown fixture, stepped in front of her and squatted. Julie put her right arm around his neck as if he were going to give her a piggy back ride. But instead, she climbed up on his shoulders.

Just as she swung the metal object towards the glass, turning her blond head away from the impact.. She looked to see Mike was taking precaution as well.

"Again!" he ordered.

"Shh-" she said, certain she had heard a car door outside. "It's Kyle."

"Really?" Mike asked. "Can you see him?"

Julie watched a pair of brown penny pass by outside. The person was carried a red gas can.

Impatient, Mike yelled, "Down here, Kyle!"

The person stopped and turned towards the window. He reached under his suit jacket and pulled out a gun.

"Put me down!" Julie grasped at Mike's neck, ducking out of sight.

Mike quickly lowered her and slammed her gently against the brick wall.

"Who's down there?" Pico's voice called through the window. Mike recognized him from last night's interview

"Pico?" he whispered.

The intruder smashed the glass with one of the full gas cans sending shards flying into the room.

Mike scrambled to his feet, grabbed his weapon and began firing towards the window. Pico fired return shots. Julie grabbed her gun as well.

"No!" Mike yelled at her. "Stay back!" he shoved her against the wall with intentional force, knowing how easily she could be fatally wounded without a bullet proof vest.

Just as quickly as they'd started, Pico's gun shots stopped. Mike figured he must have ran out of ammo and was grateful because it gave him time to reload his own firearm.

They heard footsteps going away from the window and then the side door to the building open and slam shut.

"He's coming down here!" Frantic, Julie scrambled to her feet again, pain shooting up her ankle. "He's got gas cans!"

"To burn more records?"

"There should be some disks. I don't know if Kyle would put those in a separate storage area."

"If we make it out of here alive I'll come back for them."

"If-" she gasped.

"I wish you would've prepared yourself for this. You should've been wearing a bullet proof vest!" he snapped at her.

"How was I to know he was out to destroy my life as well as my reputation?"

"When he comes for us, you'd better stay here and let me handle him. You can't even walk right!"

"Thanks!"

"Turn off your light," he ordered, clicking off his own. "He can't shoot what he doesn't see."

"But he can hear," she said softly.

"You'd better sit still then," he ordered, heading for the door. He stood beside it, waiting for the knob to turn. Julie crawled across the floor, wanting to join him, knowing she'd be safer if she stayed behind him and not out in the open.

Mike took his position, one arm crossed over his chest, and the other with weapon aimed at anybody who might come in.

They stayed quiet, waiting. It wasn't long before the door handle turned, and Dr. Pico cautiously stepped in. Mike took a shot at him. The bullet flew past Pico's left shoulder and he turned, returning fire. Mike ducked and ran across the room, faster than Pico could see him. The older man continued to fire.

Julie felt the bullet rip through the right side of her chest, burning and she fell down, screaming out in pain.

"JULIE!" Mike called out her name and she'd heard him but didn't answer.

* * *

A/N: Compare to Draft 12 chapter 4... Connie's POV was dropped in favor of Steve Maitland's.


	6. Unpaid Fines

5 Unpaid Fines

Five minutes earlier L.A. County Policeman Ray Jones sat along the side of the main highway which went by Science Frontiers, monitoring traffic, hoping to make his speeding ticket quota for the day.

He didn't have to wait for too long because a black Nissan Pickup truck whizzed by at about thirty miles over the 45mph speed limit, setting off his radar.

Sirens blaring, he followed the truck for another mile before it heeded his summon, pulling off the side of the road.

Officer Jones stepped out of his vehicle, ticket pad in one hand, keys in the other. He stuffed the latter into his right pocket and proceeded to the driver's side door of his suspect.

The young man sitting inside already had the window down.

"You in a hurry, Pal?" Jones questioned.

"I'm sorry. I'm late for an appointment."

"I clocked you at seventy-five."

"I know, I'm sorry. Can you just hurry up and give me the ticket? I really have to go."

"License and registration?" Jones said, undaunted by the young man's impatience.

Kyle reached up into his visor and pulled out both of them, handing them over.

Jones studied them, taking down the necessary information. "You know it's a minimum five hundred dollar fine if you do 10 over the speed limit. It's double for twenty. And triple for thirty."

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, to no avail.

"Wait here while I run your information," the officer ordered, then returned to his own vehicle.

Kyle watched his actions nervously via the rearview mirror. He knew what was about to come.

"Buddy, you've got a warrant for you arrest for a no show in court regarding another speeding ticket a month ago. Step out of the vehicle. I've got to haul you in," the officer came back with unwelcome information.

"Great," Kyle muttered, thinking of Mike and Julie who were expecting him. It seemed he'd have to get the keys back later. A quick call from jail to Mike's answering machine later would suffice.

Kyle removed his keys from the ignition and slipped them into his pant pocket.

"You can hand those over," Officer Jones stated.

Shaking his head, Kyle did as he was told, and got out of the truck. The cop ordered him to turn around, frisked, and then handcuffed him.

Feeling the officer's hand on his elbow, Kyle was shoved in the direction of the waiting cop car. Officer Jones opened the door to the back of his vehicle and pushed the young man in. Then he got in the front seat ready to ask for assistance in towing and impounding the pickup truck. But no sooner did he get in than gunshots were heard. Officer Jones sped off in the direction of Science Frontiers, police sirens wailing.

* * *

Knowing Julie was injured, Mike continued to exchange rounds with Dr. Pico and followed him down the darkened corridors of the cellar. He crept softly and quietly, torn as to whether or not he was doing the right thing. He chased Pico up a flight of stairs and to the outside only to discover that he was out of ammunition again,

Pico darted across the parking lot and escaped into thick woods.

Mike stopped to reload his gun just as a police car came. Mike raised his gun to fire a shot towards the trees.

Officer Jones stopped his car and got out screaming, "POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPON!"

Mike lowered his gun, knowing his attention now had to turn to helping Julie.

"Call an ambulance! He shot my friend!" he pleaded.

"What?"

"There's a woman with me. She's in the basement. She's been shot!"

Julie lay in a pile of debris, blood oozing from her wound, feeling as though her chest were caving in, burning, searing pain.

"She's in here," Mike Donovan said only moments later.

Officer Jones used his flashlight to follow Mike's lead. He saw the blond laying among the charred remains of some boxes.

"Julie?" Mike knelt down beside her, reaching for her hand.

"Don't move her, Mr. Donovan," Officer Jones said. "We have to wait for the ambulance."

Mike felt for a pulse. It was there, but faint. Jones scanned his flash light up and down her body, stopping at her chest where her navy blue tank top turned a deeper shade of dark purple. Mike saw the blood pooling under her back onto the rubble beneath her. He saw the color drain from her.

He reached over and picked up the flashlight he'd dropped only moments ago during the shootout and continued to inspect and watch her.

"Hang in there, Julie. We've still got to get this mess straightened out ," he pleaded, touching her face, gently pulling back each eyelid, hoping she hadn't passed already. He felt her wrist again.

The sound of an ambulance could be heard coming from the outside.

"Stay here, I'm going to get them," Jones turned and left.

"I'm not leaving her."

* * *

A/N: Revising chapters 5 & 6 to get it to read correctly took 3 critique sessions, a sit down interview with a police officer and the purchase of a book for writers called "Police Procedure and Investigation." That must be some serious "V" dedication.


	7. When Good Guys Go to Jail

**6 When Good Guys Go to Jail**

Several cop cars including both city and county gathered in the parking lot of Science Frontiers along with an ambulance which left its red lights flashing.

Kyle Bates shifted uncomfortably in the back of one of the squad cars. The air within was stifling. He watched as a group of paramedics and police ran along side a gurney which was pulled from the side of the building.

Ex- resistance leader Mike Donovan trailed behind the group, trying to keep up with them. Kyle guessed Juliet Parrish was on that stretcher. Mike was shouting something and waving his arms trying to get a few of their attention.

Officer Jones turned back and shoved Mike up against the side of the building. Mike retaliated, pushing the police man hard while his eyes still remained on the stretcher. Another officer motioned to two red gas cans, one sitting in an upright position on the sidewalk, and another turned on its side, its contents spilled into the lawn beside it.

Mike shook his head. Kyle read his lips "No… " He failed to make out the rest.

Another male officer lunged at Mike, pinning him against the wall.

Officer Jones patted him down and slapped handcuffs on his wrists. Kyle's guess was Mike would soon be joining him in the back of this car, but that wasn't the case.

They put Mike in the back of another vehicle just as the ambulance sped out of the parking lot with its sirens going full force.

* * *

The sunlight reflected its rays off of Maggie Blodgett's sparkly diamond ring. She couldn't wait to show it to Julie. There wasn't been time this morning when she picked up CJ at eight thirty. Maggie couldn't wait to start planning the Blodgett-Faber wedding. She hadn't quite picked out a location, but the famed beachfront Hotel Del Corandado down in San Diego was among her top picks. Of course it would be expensive. She and Chris had already put a way quite a bit in their savings account, hopeful that the day would come.

Chris didn't fare too bad with his job for a Private Investigation Firm. The payments on their two bedroom bungalow were quite pricey being as close to the beach as they were. Maggie knew if they wanted to have more kids they'd have to move further inland and get a three bedroom for sure.

She watched as Chris picked up and swooped little CJ over incoming waves. He screamed with delight with each lift.

"Careful," she called, full of a new mother's concern. "Don't let water in his ears or he'll land up with an infection."

Chris paid no mind to his fiancée. He was taken by the joyous laughter of his son.

"You like that, buddy?" he asked, picking him up again and plunging him down partly in the water.

"CHRIS!"

Maggie put one leg over the crimson red lounge chair, letting her bare toes hit the hot sand. She lowered the other leg just as Chris came up the beach with CJ.

"He's having too much fun out there," Chris explained, letting CJ down.

The baby toddled toward's Maggie and she scooped him up on her lap, running a large, fuzzy towel through his hair. He giggled, looking back at his daddy.

Chris reached down and popped open the ice chest. He took out a Budweiser and pulled the tab.

"You want a wine cooler?"

Maggie set CJ down on the beach blanket beside her chair. "Not yet." She noticed the sun creeping up higher into the morning sky and said, "Have any idea what time it is?"

"About thirty minutes since the last time you asked," he answered, sitting down on his beach chair. He tugged on CJ's diaper as the tot tried to crawl off the blanket. "Where do you think you're going, Buddy?"

CJ screamed and tried to push Chris hand away, but Chris wouldn't let go of him.

"No, CJ," Maggie said. "I wonder what's keeping Julie. You said it's almost noon?"

Chris glanced down at his black plastic waterproof watch and nodded. "It ain't what's keeping Julie but a matter of who's keeping Julie."

Maggie cocked her head knowingly and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's with Donovan. They ain't seen each other in a while."

"So?"

Chris scooped up CJ, ignoring Maggie's concern. He got to his feet and swung him around by his arms. The baby laughed.

Maggie hated it when he did that, certain the little boy's arms would come clean out of their sockets and snap.

"Chris. Please. Stop!" she screamed.

Drawing CJ against his body, Chris headed back towards their picnic site.

"I guess Mommy thinks you ain't big enough for airplane yet," he uttered his apology and swatted the little boy on his backside gently, sitting him down on the checkered blue blanket again.

CJ reached for and pulled himself up against the red cooler.

"I have a bad feeling about Julie," Maggie said. "I wish I could call her and make sure she's okay."

"Only thing to do is wait, babe," Chris said to her.

But his subtle reassurance did nothing to ease her concern.

* * *

Tired of the monotony, tired of the questions, Mike sat inside the interrogation room at the Los Angeles Police Department.

Officer Andrew Perkins sat across him reviewing the report of the officer who made the arrest.

"Mr. Donovan I know you've been given your rights and you are entitled to a lawyer. You have a right to speak to an attorney before we continue with this interrogation. Would you like for me to arrange it?"

"I don't care about talking to a lawyer. I want to know if my friend is okay! Can you call the hospital?"

"Is she your girlfriend?" Andrew set the paper down on the table.

"No."

"It says here you stated you worked together in the LA Resistance Movement. You both led the group?"

"That has nothing to do with this."

"Maybe, maybe not." He let out a breath. "You want to tell me how you and she got into Science Frontiers?"

"Through the front door." Mike sounded cocky. He knew it and he didn't care. A couple had hours passed and he had no clue whether or not Julie was alive or dead. He needed to know anything that would ease his mind right now.

The Police Officer straightened. "Officer Jones found no sign of forced entry."

"I used a key."

"Where'd you get the key from?"

"Kyle Bates. His father owned the place. I asked him if I could take Julie there to look for her files and clear up the confusion."

"You said his name is Kyle Bates?" Andrew sounded surprised.

Mike nodded, thinking finally he had gotten somewhere.

"Interesting, Officer Jones picked up the young man about a mile from the facility. It seems there was a warrant for his arrest."

It was the reason Kyle was late, Mike thought, he'd been stopped by the police. "What for?"

"I can't say now. But I can tell you we'll talk to him, see if he can corroborate your story. In the meantime we're gonna have to put you in a holding cell. Is there anybody you want to call and tell them you're here? You might want a change of clothes."

"I want to call the hospital and find out how Dr. Parrish is."

"We'll see about that phone call, Mr. Donovan." Andrew pushed in his chair, snatched the papers from the table and motioned to the guard outside.

"Take Mr. Donovan to block B and send for a detainee by the name of Kyle Bates," he told the guard who stepped in.

The guard took Mike by the elbow and led him away.

* * *

Steve was just about to leave to run his afternoon errands when the living room phone rang. He sat down a grocery list and car keys on the end table, picking up the phone with his opposite hand.

"Hello?"

"Is this Dr. Steve Maitland?" The woman on the other end spoke softly.

"Yes."

"Mr. Maitland, I am calling in regards to a friend of yours, Juliet Parrish. You are listed as her emergency contact with records at Dr. Pete Holland's office."

"Is Julie okay?" Steve could envision the worst. She and Donovan managed to find some kind of trouble.

"I'm afraid not. Are you her closest relative?"

"I'm not," he paused, wondering if the woman would give him more information, even perhaps some grim news. "Her family lives in New York. I'm just a close friend." The words sounded strange to him, coming from his own lips, given how close they'd been only a few months ago. "What's wrong?"

"If you would contact her immediate family. Dr. Parrish was shot today and she's just come out of surgery. We've got her in critical care, but things aren't looking good. I'm sorry."

Feeling a lump in his throat, and a burning in his chest, he wanted to ask more questions. "Is she dying?" he asked.

"Dr. Maitland if you could come up here and talk to the surgeon, perhaps because I can't give that information over the phone."

Steve thought of Donovan who was supposed to have been with Julie. "Did anybody bring her in?"

"She was brought in by ambulance."

"But there was no one with her, no friend?"

"Nobody's been down here for Ms. Parrish that I am aware of."

Steve wondered where Donovan was, or if he had been injured too.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." He reached for his car keys again.

"But don't forget to call her family. We'll see you soon."

The fact she'd insisted he call Julie's family twice gave no comfort to Steven. He hung up the phone and quickly darted towards the front door, leaving his grocery list behind.

Outside his Silver Dodge Durango awaited him and he climbed in. His eyes became a well of tears over the next few minutes, and were so blurry he could barely see the road in front of him. He wanted to get control of himself, at least before he got to the hospital, but the thoughts racing through his mind only grew more disheartening.

Why hadn't he been able to talk her out of this meeting? Why couldn't she just let Pico's false information about her work at Science Frontiers go? Why did she have to take it so personally anyway? Steve drove about nine minutes before reaching the hospital. He'd run a few red lights along the way, nearly missing some oblivious pedestrians on Hollywood Boulevard. He was racing to get to his destination, though he didn't know why. Would getting there any sooner change the outcome of what happened to Julie? Maybe he just needed to tell her he loved her one last time before she was gone.

He loved her.

That's all he knew.

He loved her.

Would she even be able to hear him? Or was she already dead?

In the parking garage, Steve found a spot for his vehicle. The car came to a jerk as it touched a concrete block. Steve put the vehicle in park, slammed its door and ran towards the parking garage elevator, just as the doors were about to close.

"WAIT!" he screamed at the young expectant mother who was holding her stomach and looking as though she were on her way to deliver.

A young man with thinning dark hair and a black mole on his chin stepped forward and forced the elevator doors back open for Steve.

"Sorry," Steve mumbled a grief stricken apology.

The elevator doors slid closed, and the car began to move up, and up until it reached the 1st floor of the LA Med Center.

He and the young couple stepped out, heading in separate directions. Steve stopped at an information desk and asked for directions to the ICU. A large woman gave him a room number and pointed in the direction of another set of elevators.

* * *

A/N: Good night! This chapter was butchered in revisions. Compare its length on draft 12... I think it has like two pages. Some of the scenes made it into the final cut and became part of chapters 7& 8, and Kyles point of View scene was dropped entirely.


	8. When to Notify Relatives

**7 When to Notify Relatives**

Between being rushed into the emergency room and then the O.R., Juliet Parrish had received 16 units of blood, and now lay pale on a sterile white hospital bed in the Traumatic Intensive Care Unit of the Los Angeles Med Center. The tiny bullet which had entered the right side of Julie's chest had done a great deal of damage. Even greater in size was the incision made to take the projectile out, than the diameter of the bullet's point of entry. Julie suffered from a traumatic pneumothorax, or collapsed lung.

Several electronic and suction devices were keeping her alive at this moment in time. From the intubation tube that went into her mouth and down into her chest, to the NG tube which ran through her nose and down to her stomach, and a chest tube which was a line running into the lower part of her breast, used to drain excess fluid from the damaged lung. An I.V. ran into her left arm provided the hydration and medications needed to help sustain her. Several small white padded circles attached to tubes ran to an EKG machine, used to monitor her heart. A catheter was put in place for urinary drainage as well.

Steve Maitland stood on the other side of a glass partition, in a tiny room where a male nurse kept a constant vigil on Julie's condition by watching the electronic readouts of the various devices.

Painful tension pulled at Steve's throat. He'd talked to the doctor who performed the lifesaving surgery on his ex- fiancée. Now, all that was left to do was wait. But the fact Julie needed to have a machine do her breathing for her spoke volumes, and it didn't look like the respirator would be taken away anytime soon, unless of course her family, who was still in New York, decided not to continue with the lifesaving measures.

Steve dreaded making the phone call to Julie's mother. Just as he had gotten the terrible news himself under an hour ago, how awful it would be for him to have to tell Connie Parrish her eldest daughter might not make it through to see another day.

If Julie wasn't going to live then it would be especially right her family could come and pay their final respects. And who else would make the funeral arrangements? Steve didn't have extra money in his bank account for that. He pushed the thought aside. The only thing he could do now, or at least concentrate on doing, was to call Connie and give her the bad news.

He decided to go and find a pay phone. It would have to be a collect call, and hopefully one that would be accepted by her.

Down in admissions, Steve located the phone he was looking for and dialed the number left by Julie's mother earlier.

"Collect call from Dr. Steve Maitland," the operator told the woman on the other end. "Do you accept the charges?"

"I will," Connie answered.

"Mrs. Parrish?"

"Steve?" she replied. "Have you heard from Julie? I left her a message and she hasn't gotten back with me."

"I have." His gaze dropped, he pressed his forehead against the hard metal of the phone booth. "I'm at-" he broke off, searching for words. He swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. "Julie's been shot."

"What?"

He straightened, his wet blue eyes glancing around the lobby. Moisture filled his nostrils and his throat contracted again.

"She- she….." he sobbed. Unable to support himself he sunk to the floor.

"Steven?"

"They want you to come. I can't make the decisions because I'm not a relative."

"Okay." There was a pause before Steve heard her pass on the information to the others who were with her. "Your sister's been shot!"

Steve cried harder. "Do you have money? Can you fly out here today or tomorrow?"

"I'm going to try. Hang in there. Steven. Is there a number I should call to talk to the doctor? Are you going home later?"

"She's in the TICU, fourth floor. I plan on staying as long as I can. But if you leave me a message," he caught his breath and sniffled. "I'll uh… I'll get back with you. You can stay at my place."

"I'll leave you my flight arrangements."

"Bye Connie."

"Bye Steven," her voice cracked.

When Steve got off the phone this time, his face was soaked. He headed towards the men's room looking for a paper towel dispenser, but found a hand dryer instead. Angry, he reached out and punched it with his fist.

_Damn you, Donovan, he thought. This is your fault._

* * *

A/N: Steve Maitland is portrayed here as a blubbering idiot. Couldn't we just shoot him and put him out of his misery instead?


	9. Reckless Reporter Arrives on Scene

**8 Reckless Newsman Arrives on Scene**

Within a few hours of arriving at the jail Kyle learned it would be four days before he could see a judge about his unpaid tickets. He would spend that time in his cell, with nothing to do but think about the bills racking up. He wished he could sell Science Frontiers and few other holdings his father left behind.

Nathan Bates had not been true to his word. He didn't cut Kyle out of his will for his involvement with the resistance. Kyle was never certain if it was because maybe his dad hadn't been so cold hearted after all, or if he just hadn't made the time to change the wording. But then again, who else would he have left it to?

Kyle scooted up onto his bed and leaned back against the wall wondering about Mike and Julie, but especially Julie. She was so polite and apologetic earlier, and he'd only tried to make her feel bad in return. Deep down he knew trying to put others on guilt trips wouldn't bring Elizabeth back from the Visitor's home planet, and there was no telling what happened to her.

It didn't seem fair to Kyle. He thought the Starchild should at least have the right to visit family members on holidays, especially her own mother. Kyle kept in touch with Robin Maxwell these past two years because she seemed to be the only one who understood him, who wanted to. She remained in Chicago with two younger sisters. She worked as a waitress and boarded with her aunt. She remained unwed.

To Kyle's surprise, one night during a long conversation into the wee hours of the morning, he felt a spark for Robin he never thought possible. The whole thing about dating an eighteen month old girl who looked as old as her mother had been strange in itself. But now Kyle thought he and Robin shared something special, albeit a long distance relationship. He couldn't help but wonder how she might react if one day he told her how he felt about her.

Robin would be making her weekly phone call tonight, and he wasn't going to be there to answer the phone. She would worry, and there was no one to tell her the truth.

* * *

Mike called his assignment editor, News Director Mick Pierce as soon as he was released from his jail cell. The older man came down to the station right away.

"I don't understand you, Mike," Pierce muttered, cutting across three lanes of traffic on Loop 110. "You go off on a tangent to get a big story, land up in jail, and risk the life of your subject in the process. What's worse is you don't even call us and tell us you're working on the story. I thought you were going to see your kid today!"

"Change of plans," Mike said absently. He glanced over at the speedometer and saw the little Toyota Pickup was only doing sixty. "You wanna step on it? I'd like to get there today!"

"They said she's in ICU and she's stable. She's not going anywhere." The car sped up to about 70 miles per hour, and Pierce passed a Roadway Semi, The driver blared his horn in protest. Pierce flipped him the bird.

Mike was relieved when he saw the tall towers of the LA Med Center coming into focus. Pierce entered the off ramp which circled around and exited into a large intersection. He took the usual route to downtown Los Angeles and dropped Mike off at the admissions entry.

"You do have cab fare for a ride home later, dontcha?" asked Pierce as his friend opened the passenger side door.

"Yeah," Mike said, stepping out. "Thanks for bringing me here, I owe you one."

"Call me and let me know if there's any change in her condition. I'll keep tabs on whether or not they capture the guy."

Mike nodded and closed the door.

Down the hall from Julie's TICU room, Steve poured himself a cup of complimentary hot java, wondering how long it would keep him awake this evening, or even how long they would let him stay.

He sat down on a small teal green sofa, his legs weary from standing for the greater part of the day. There hadn't been much of anything to do in the small observatory room except to watch Julie lie there in a drug induced coma. The doctors said if they woke her now she would feel a great deal of pain, more than what they could manage with the morphine.

"Maitland?"

It wasn't a Doctor's voice Steve heard calling his name. He looked over towards the doorway and recognized Mike Donovan's face.

"Donovan?" Steve said, standing. He set the hot cup aside, anger immanent, "Where the hell have you been?!"

"In jail."

Steve's eyes narrowed. Perhaps this man was more responsible for Julie's condition than he suspected. "What happened?"

"I can explain later," Mike said. "I'd like to see her. Is she okay?"

"Hell no, she isn't okay!" Steve darted towards the doorway and headed out into the hall.

"Well what did the doctors say? I mean I had my friend from WKKG call earlier. They wouldn't give too much information."

"She had surgery earlier to remove the bullet from her lung. I called her mom. She's coming out here. Anyway, Julie's got a pneumothorax. They put her on a vent because she can't breathe on her own."

Mike looked through the glass and saw the woman lying there with all the machines and tubes, how pale she was. He turned away squinting. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Is she… gonna make it?" He almost couldn't finish the sentence. The pain tugging at his chest, the heartache….

"Don't know."

Mike looked at her again. He wished he could go in there, but assumed they weren't letting any visitors in the actual room yet. He just wanted to go in there, sit next to her and hold her hand.

He remembered earlier Julie talked about going to the beach and meeting Maggie, Chris and their son. It dawned on him they probably didn't know about the shooting, unless they turned on their television and watched the evening news soon. "Do you know how I can get a hold of her friend Maggie? She was going to meet her at the beach after-" he broke off.

"I know where she and Chris Faber live." Steve sat in one of the empty chairs next to the observatory nurse. "I don't have a number."

"Tell me how to get there. They must be worried."

"I thought you were going to tell me about what went down."

"I'll be back later. But if you can find a t.v. they're doing a story on WKKG news at six."

"The TICU closes at eight," the male nurse informed him.

"Unless you're family," Steve added.

"Then you won't be here later?"

"Actually I was listed as her emergency contact."

"I guess that makes sense." Mike wasn't really sure it did, but it didn't seem to matter anyway with Julie the way she was. He got the address from Maitland and was off to give Maggie Blodgett the bad news about her friend.


	10. Mutual Enemies

**9 Mutual Enemies**

Maggie Blodgett was surprised to see the taxi pull up in front of her house at 6:25 p.m. She became concerned by the appearance of the passenger who got out of it, a man bearing a familiar face which she had not seen in a long time. Her first guess was Mike Donovan's appearance had something to do with Julie's no show for the beach today.

Waving the cab away, Mike headed up the driveway.

"Hi stranger. Long time no see." Maggie put the garden hose down which she had been using to water some pots of pink Azaleas which hung about the porch.

Mike was quiet, much too quiet. He climbed the porch steps. There was a certain glistening in is eyes. Maggie knew something was wrong. "What is it?"

"I know Julie was supposed to meet with you earlier. Uh, Steve Maitland told me where to find you."

"Steve?" Maggie wondered what his connection was to any of this.

"Juie was shot today down at Science Frontiers."

Briefly, Maggie closed her eyes, feeling her lower lip trembling. She covered her mouth. "What? Oh Mike… is she… okay?"

Her reaction only sparked Mike's own anguish. He couldn't' control his tears.

"She's had surgery," he said. "They've got her on a breathing machine."

"Oh no!" Maggie cried.

Reaching out, Mike enveloped his arms around her. Maggie stayed that way for a minute, choked up. She wanted to hear more, or if Julie had a chance.

The squeak of the screen door was enough to make Mike step away from the woman. Chris Faber poked his head outside.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Maggie caught her breath, "Julie was shot. She's not doing good."

Letting the wooden screen door slam behind himself, Chris joined them. He looked to Mike for answers. "What happened?"

"The guy who I interviewed last night, who gave false information about her involvement with the red dust project," he shifted his weight to his left leg, "He uh, had been down there destroying documents. I think he was coming back to do more damage. Julie said there might be disks down there. Anyway, she got caught in crossfire and took a hit in the right lung. Maitland said it's collapsed. It's not good."

"I want to go see her!" Maggie wailed, trying to control her sobbing.

"You're going to have to be quick. They won't let anyone in after eight."

Maggie turned to Chris. "Watch the baby?"

He nodded. "Call me and let me know about her condition."

She disappeared inside the house, thankful CJ was down for a nap, and wouldn't be throwing his tantrum when she left. She grabbed a blue suede purse along with a set of keys and went straight to her car. Mike joined her.

"Where's your car?" She turned the key in the ignition.

"At Science Frontiers." Pulling the tan seat belt over his chest, Mike snapped it into place. "They arrested me and took me in for questioning, but didn't impound my car."

"They arrested you?' she asked, incredulously. "What the hell for?

"Breaking and entering."

"I thought Kyle let you in."

"Actually, they arrested him too. He's still in jail. He's got some criminal record or something. They wouldn't tell me the charges. But his story cleared me."

Bleary eyed and barely able to see the road in front of her, Maggie turned onto Lincoln Boulevard heading south towards I-10. "I wanted to ask her if -," she broke off unable to say the rest. She reached her right hand up to wipe the tears away. "Oh God—"

Mike steadied the wheel beneath her left hand. "I'd be happy to drive if you pull over."

"I'm okay." she grabbed it back, firmly. "How's Steve doing?"

"He's a bit shaken up."

"So, what, you called him and told him about it?"

"No, they called him, something about emergency contact information."

"I should call her mom."

"He already did. She's coming."

"Did you ever meet her? I mean when you and Julie were… together?"

"No," he answered unsure why Maggie brought that up. "I guess we just didn't get around to it."

"I know this has got to be awkward for you with Steve up at the hospital. Julie said you met him before."

"Its got to be awkward for him, from what she told me today."

"What was that?"

"I think she was trying to imply she ended their relationship. She was uh, very sensitive about the issue."

"She can't stand him."

"Well I don't think the feeling's mutual."

"He still loves her," she admitted.

"She's a lovable person."

Maggie glanced over at him. "You loved her too."

The uncomfortable feeling came back to Mike. He broke eye contact with her and looked straight ahead, watching the road as it grew longer, and more cluttered with billboard signs, some partially destroyed by Visitor laser fire two years ago.

When Maggie arrived in the TICU, a female nurse slipped into Juliet's room to take her vital signs. Steve Maitland was still there, and she acknowledged his presence with a brief hug.

"Any changes?" Mike asked.

"No." His back now stiff from sitting for too long, Steve stood to his feet. "Maggie, I didn't know your number to give to Donovan here. I'm sure Connie will want it when she gets here. You're still Julie's closest friend."

"Is Connie staying with you?" She watched the nurse in Julie's room write stuff on a chart.

"Probably. I don't know if she's bringing anyone else. I may not have room."

"I wonder if they could stay at her apartment."

"Do you have a key?"

"No," she glanced at Mike. "Did she have her purse with her when she came in?"

"I gave it to the paramedics," he said. "I don't know if it would be right to let them stay there without her approval. I do have a spare room at my place."

"You never met Connie Parrish," Maggie said full of skepticism.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve asked.

"Nothing."

"I know she can be controlling," Mike admitted, remembering Julie's past complaints about her mother. "We'll just wait until she or they get here and go from there."

"How long did you and Julie date?" Steve interrupted.

"What the hell kind of question is that at a time like this?!"

"She never told me."

"Steve, Mike's right," Maggie glared. "That's really irrelevant now. We all care about her."

"Two years," Mike answered.

"Did you love her?" Steve asked.

"No, I just used her because I thought she was easy!"

"Mike!" Maggie hissed.

Steve lunged at Mike, "You son of a bitch!"

Mike held him back at the shoulders, knowing he could easily take him. "I would advise you not to make this personal."

"You just did!"

Mike shoved him away, "Cool it before you get us both thrown out of here." He nodded over at the observing nurse and said, "Sorry."

The man shifted in his chair and said, " I've seen worse. Just don't let it happen again."

Maggie patted Steve on the shoulder and said, "C'mon. Let's go exchange information and cool you off."

She slipped her arm through his elbow. They went away to the waiting room. "I know you still love her. But you've got to distance your feelings for her now, and be respectful of how other people may feel."

Steve pulled away suddenly, "I don't need a lecture from you!"

"Well don't lead Connie into believing Julie felt anything more than for you than what she did." Maggie reached into her purse and pulled out some sheets of scratch paper. "And don't go making enemies with Mike now. If Julie does come out of this, the last thing she needs to deal with is to see you two at each other's throats. She needs rest and time to heal, not stress."

In a way Maggie wished she could offer Connie a place to stay, but there was no room. She'd have to see who was coming, and check into using Julie's apartment. Deep down, she knew having Connie stay with Steve would be a bad thing because she was so fond of him.

She jotted down her phone number and address on the scratch paper then tore off a blank section and gave it to Steve so he could give his.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest," she advised. "You can always come back tomorrow."

"Good, maybe he won't be here." Maitland pocketed the scrap paper and headed for the door.

Coming out of Julie's room, Nurse Tiffany went over to the male observing nurse and relayed the information in a bunch of medical jargon Mike didn't fully understand anyway. He was thankful when he saw Maggie come in because she too was an RN by trade and could relay the information in more simple terms.

"I told Steve to go home and rest," she said.

"We could all use it."

"You want my number too? I don't know how soon I'll be up here tomorrow. Chris has to work. Julie usually baby sat on the weekends, if I had things to do."

"She's pretty close to your son?"

Maggie nodded, smiling, tears filling her eyes again. "I always told her she would make a great mom." She wrote down her information and gave it to him. "Can I have yours?"

Mike took the piece of paper from her.

"How soon do you plan on coming up tomorrow?"

"How soon do they open?"

"Steve said he's coming early. Maybe you should wait."

"I don't think so," he said caustically.

"Mike-?"

Distracted, Mike stepped in front of Tiffany as she was about to leave the room. "How is Julie?"

"And you are?" she asked.

"Mike Donovan. This is Maggie Blodgett."

"Are you related?"

"I'm her best friend. Her family's in New York, maybe coming tomorrow," Maggie said. "I'm also a nurse. I work at Santa Monica General."

Tiffany turned to Maggie, seeming more willing to give her the information than Mike who came across a little demanding.

"I just took her vitals and put some pain medication in her IV. They'd like to pull her out of the coma tomorrow and see how she does. She's got a pneumothorax in her right lung, I'm sure you are already aware of. She's being fed intravenously. Her BP is elevated. She's got a little bit of a fever. We've got her on an antibiotic to stop the infection."

"What infection?" Mike asked.

"From the entry wound. It seems the bullet was contaminated with some bacterial. We sent it to our lab, and then we'll turn it over to ballistics for testing."

Mike began to think about what kind of dangerous concoction a mad scientist such as Dr. Pico might come up with.

"What about the ventilator?" Maggie asked. "Does it look like she might breathe on her own soon?"

"That's really an hour by hour thing," the nurse glanced at her watch. "Our visiting hours are almost over. We open at eight in the morning. We should have more answers after the morning labs are completed."

"I'll be back bright and early," Mike said.

Maggie smiled at him and patted his hand. Together, they exited the room and entered the hallway.

"What do you think was on the bullet?" Mike asked her.

"Being the good journalist you are, I'm sure you will get all the facts."

"I've got to get back down to Science Frontiers and get those disks before Pico gets to them, if he hasn't already."

"What happened to him, anyway?"

"He fled."

"Well isn't it a little hard to go there when you don't have a vehicle?"

"I'll take a cab."

She stopped and turned to him. "No, I'll take you now."

"Thanks."


	11. For the Cause of Science

**10 For the Cause of Science**

Connie resituated her position in her seat aboard Big Apple Airlines flight 15644 from JFK to LA. It would be a 12 hour flight with one plane change in Denver and a two hour layover in Vegas. She was tired. Her ears were popping and they hurt.

"Can I get you anything, a blanket, a pillow… anything," a friendly female stewardess came by.

"No," Connie said, feeling the pinch of a lump in her throat.

"Well if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"I'm fine."

The stewardess moved onto the next row of seats just as the Pilot came on and announced they were flying over St. Louis, and that it was 4: 23 AM Eastern time.

Closing her eyes, Connie felt for the recline button on her cloth covered dark blue seat. She realized maybe a pillow would have been a good idea. She turned her head to the side, resting her right ear against the back of the chair and began to think about her daughter.

Julie always was a risk taker, striving to achieve whatever she wanted, whether or not her parents wanted the same. Connie remembered the first time Julie expressed wishes to be a doctor. She was 12 years old, found a dog which was hit by a car, and tried to bandage its broken leg herself. She was reluctant to let Connie take it to the pound, fearing it would be euthanized, instead of receiving the proper care it needed. Connie never did find out what had happened to the dog, not even for Julie's sake.

Later on, after Julie went off to NYU, doing a double major, one in Chemistry and the other in Biology, she decided to continue her education to earn her Masters and Doctorate at UCLA. She seemed torn about going into medicine or biochemistry. Connie didn't mind so much Julie's devotion to these kinds of knowledge, what she minded was her daughter moved so far away to pursue it. That was when Julie's relationship with her mother became really strained. Julie didn't come home for visits that first spring break or summer. She was always busy, whether it was going to the beach and to parties with her then new found love, Steve, or doing internships in the summer to add to her experience.

Then, Connie and Julie's father, Rob Parrish decided to pay their daughter a surprise visit for Thanksgiving in 1981. Connie confronted Julie about "abandoning and not caring about her family," and about the physical relationship which was so blatantly obvious between her and Steve.

Julie was a good girl in high school, not dating, devoting most of her spare time to studying, bringing home A's and staying out of trouble. Connie had been proud of her. For prom, Julie went with a guy she'd known since grade school, but they weren't serious, and Connie doubted if anything other than dancing went on between them. She never asked. She never worried about having her daughter put on birth control pills. Julie's studying took precedence over everything, and lately, whatever endeavors her daughter took upon herself, from her paid jobs to her volunteer ones, Julie still managed to keep herself to busy for real relationships. Connie had no doubt Julie's devotion to her work screwed up her priorities with Steve this time. They could be married, and having children. Steve seemed to genuinely love Julie and want what was best for her. And Connie knew that it was because of him last summer Julie finally allowed her mother to come out and visit. Connie couldn't believe how much her daughter changed. The war changed her. She was more mature and more knowledgeable of her world, and protecting it. The things Julie got herself involved in during the war scared Connie. The people Julie befriended seemed too determined and dangerous in their own way. The whole idea of Julie being some type of militia leader was one Connie couldn't fathom. She prayed the Visitors never came back, thinking it alone would keep her daughter out of harms way. She was wrong.

* * *

Feet sore from walking, Dr. William Pico settled down on the moist ground near Pio Pico Park in Whittier, Ca. His chest sore, he started to cough, choking up some yellow nasty phlegm. Tiny beads of sweat gathered across his forehead. He reached into his jacket pocket for a small pack of 9mm bullets, put one in his mouth, holding it between his teeth and then reloaded his Sig P239. With eight now in the chamber he felt more secure than he had before.

A chill swept through Pico like none he'd felt these past few days. He knew his condition was weakening and he had to seek medical attention soon, but it would mean turning himself in. Perhaps it was better to die out here than to be caught and convicted of shooting Dr. Juliet Parrish.

He never liked the young woman when they worked together at Science Frontiers. Nathan Bates was just too intrigued by her, and admired her a great deal, so much it made Dr. Pico sick with jealousy. Julie quickly took her place as one of Bates top researchers and Pico found himself being offered less opportunities to work on special projects. He took a reduction in pay as Bates struggled to keep Los Angeles under control. There wasn't much overtime, and what little Bates had to spare he'd given to Julie. She seemed all too happy to be there, working away in her laboratory into the wee hours of the morning.

But Pico knew all too well the passion and devotion Julie felt for her work. When a new microorganism is discovered, you want to learn everything about it, how it develops, what it does, how it lives and breathes. Scientific work at worst was addicting.. For the lucky scientist who made some big breakthrough as Juliet Parrish so often had, there was a lot of money to be made, favor to gain, and work assignments to be obtained..

Dr. Pico was again driven to jealously when Julie, along with Dr. Steve Maitland, won the recent contract to develop chemicals which would treat water affected by the red dust. Pico possessed very little money, and was on the verge of losing his plush home he'd worked so long and hard to obtain. The down payment alone had been a cool 100,000. He owed about 850,000 more. But now his reputation as a groundbreaking researcher was dwindling down. As far as he was concerned, Juliet Parrish took a lot from him, and he didn't care if he ruined her reputation, or caused her work to be scrutinized by the Scientific Community. Perhaps the bitch was already dead. He could only hope…

* * *

Mike got out of bed at 5 am with a searing headache. He stumbled into the master bathroom, brushed his teeth and swallowed down a few extra strength Tylenol. He slipped off his boxers and stepped into the shower, the hot water hitting his face like a thousand knives. He turned around and let it pound on his back, trying to get rid of the tension.

Picking up the bottle of Head and Shoulders, he squeezed the last of it into the palm of his left hand. He would to make a trip to the store later. There wasn't time to make a list, and he dreaded doing it. It was hard to shop when buying only for one person. He spent a lot of money on eating out with buddies from work, and sometimes he ate at Kelly's Pub, enjoying the company of Becky. He'd thought of asking her out once, but thought the 18 year difference between them was a bit excessive. Maybe being alone had taken its toll. He tried to date an anchor at WKKG, only to have Sean assault the woman. Mike was torn between having put his son away and bringing him home. The job he had now seemed to give him more time to spend with Sean, but it wasn't the field camera work that he was used to doing, being sent to various regions of the world and getting the best footage of breaking stories for national news. He stayed local and it paid a lot less than what he had become accustomed to.

Mike grabbed a back brush and rubbed a bar of Irish Spring against its prickly bristles, then he placed it against his back and turned the moved the handle in a circular motion. He'd been bothered by Maggie and Steve's mention of his former feelings towards Julie. He knew he'd loved her. He didn't need to be reminded of it.

There were those nights these past two years when he'd considered calling her, but didn't want to be intrusive, not knowing if she was with someone, and not fully understanding why she'd chose to end their relationship. Well, he knew some of the reasons. They both were guilty of putting their work, and resistance responsibilities before each other. And then there had been the Nathan Bates factor. Mike was ashamed of his jealousy issue, and he'd confronted Julie about Nathan's advances towards her on more than one occasion, leaving her feel as if he didn't trust her.

None of that mattered now, he firmly reminded himself, washing up the lower regions of his body. What mattered was seeing William Pico brought to justice for his actions. So Mike decided after going back to the hospital to check on Julie, if she was still okay, his next trip would be back out to Science Frontiers.


	12. Turn for the Worst

**11 Turn for the Worst**

It was 7:45 A.M. when Steve left his west L.A. apartment to return to the hospital. No phone calls were made to him overnight regarding any update on Julie's condition. He took it as "no news was good news" and hoped maybe by some small miracle, she was improving. He arrived at the TICU floor at 8:14 to find Mike already there gathering updates from the Trauma Surgeon who was making his rounds. He was a fifty-something, salt and pepper haired man with thick glasses. His name badge read Dr. Alan Belkor. He spoke in a very firm but soft manner, denoting the seriousness of the situation.

Steve glanced through the glass window and studied his ex fiancée, the ventilator and it's up and down motions were still there, keeping her alive. He moved closer to the doctor and tried to listen.

Mike cleared his throat and the Doctor grew silent.

"Dr. Belkor, this is Julie's co-worker, Steve Maitland. He's been in contact with her family."

The Doctor stuck out his hand, looking into Steve's blue eyes. "Will they be coming soon?"

"Her mom's due in at LA.-X at eleven." Steve glanced over at Mike and then back to the doctor. "Her condition is stable?"

Emanating disappointment, Dr. Belkor said, "Afraid not. She's fighting a pretty sever bacterial infection of the lungs right now. Her white blood cell count skyrocketed overnight to about 14,654. It should be below-"

"I'm also a Doctor, I know what it's supposed to be. What are you treating her with?"

"Doctor of what?"

"Human biology. Julie and I have been working on a project together. What are you doing to control the infection?"

"Right now we've got her on a regimen of erythromycin every four hours, but we're considering vancomycin."

Steve knew about the drug's potential side effects and the thought of causing Julie anymore turmoil wasn't so appealing. "When will you know?"

"We're going to lay off the acetaminophen for a while and see if the fever subsides on its own. She was at 104.2 two hours ago. We gave the ice bath and fever med, she's down to about 102.5."

Disturbed by what was said, Steve found himself rubbing tears from his eyes once again. He turned away, starting to tremble.

"We're doing everything we can to get the situation under control," Dr. Belkor touched his arm. "I promise you."

"Thank… you."

"You said her mother's coming in later this morning, will she be coming here right away?"

"I think so."

"Then I will try to return after lunch, say around one o'clock. I would like to speak to her myself."

"I'll get her here."

Belkor left the two men alone. Steve sat on a chair, not wanting to talk to Mike. The whole awkwardness between them only added additional stress to an already uncertain situation

Mike didn't hesitate to speak to Steve. "I've got an appointment to meet with Chris Faber. We're going back to Science Frontiers to look for the disks."

"Disks?"

"Julie said she'd wanted to get them from Kyle Bates for what you two were working on. I figure they'll be safer in your hands than where they can be destroyed."

"She wanted them," he remembered. "Little good they'll do her now though."

"Either way that's still valuable information. Maybe you can use it."

"No."

"What?"

"It's her research. I can't take it and use it without her. It wouldn't be fair."

"If it would help you in the cause…" Mike started to say . He knew where Maitland was going… "I think she would want you to have them."

"Right!" he barked. "Then maybe you don't know her so well after all."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?!"

"Maggie told you, right?"

"What?"

"About Julie. Hell, I kind of doubt she'd want me here." He looked away feeling uncomfortable. "She might want 'you' here though. I don't know how to deal with her mother. I mean I," he broke off. "She knows it was Julie's decision, not mine."

"Hey I understand. I mean-" he paused for a second, as if uncertain. "I don't think Julie would be upset with you for being here."

"I'm sorry I got defensive yesterday." Steve was looking past Mike and not at him now. "Whatever you had with her it's been over for a long time. I know."

A loud siren started sounding and the attendant got up quickly, darted into Julie's room, and started messing with the chest tube. He reached for the CB mic which hung from a wire behind the bed, and radioed STAT for help.

More sensors went off. Steve watched as the EKG blips grew slower and slower. He rushed into the room, behind the attendant. "I'm a Doctor, what can I do to help?"

"You can't," the attendant said. "You can't be in here!"

"What's going on?" Mike joined Steve.

The attendant ignored them as several other nurses hurried in. One woman noted Mike and Steve's presence. "I'm sorry. You guys have to leave now."

Steve stayed put, anxiously watching the EKG. The blips stopped and flat lined.

"Paddles!" the attendant male nurse looked to the red headed older woman for support.

"Julie—" Steve gasped. "Hon, don't die."

Mike gently grabbed his shoulders pulling him backwards, trying to at least get him into the observatory room.

"Nooooooooooo!" Steve screamed.

"C'mon. man," Mike said, still trying. Maitland shrugged him off. Mike gave up and went into the other room, his stomach turning to knots.

"The nurses shocked Julie several times, until they got a faint rhythm back. The male attendant ordered one of the other nurses to find the physician on duty and inform him of what took place.

Steve quietly returned to the tiny room, his face awash with tears.

"What was that?" Mike broke the silence after a few seconds.

"I don't know."

Glancing at his watch and realizing he needed to be at Chris' place in only a half hour Mike said, "I'm afraid to leave her now."

"Me too." Steve broke down, sobbing, helplessly.

"Well at least you don't have to go for a while. I told Chris I would be there at nine. Maybe I should just postpone it."

Steve said nothing, wracked in his anguish, he lowered his head. Mike watched him, but wasn't willing to cry in front of him, He quietly slipped out and found a pay phone in the waiting room.

"Hello," Maggie Blodgestt's soft voice came on.

"Hey," Mikes voice caught. "Look, I'm not… gonna make it. Tell Chris… some other time… all right?"

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm at the…h-h-hosp," he couldn't finish the word.

"Julie?" Maggie gasped. "Mike, is she-"

"We lost her, and they just got her back. I have to go. I have to talk to the doctor."

He put the receiver down on its hook, sat there and cried until he got a handle on his emotions.


	13. Leaving Out the Little Details

**12 Leaving Out the Little Details**

The gleaming blue waters of the Pacific Ocean came into view as a western bound 747 made its right turn, circling round and heading to LA-X. A stewardess came on giving final announcements regarding the pending landing. Connie pushed her tray table and locked it into position. She moved the lever on her seat, sitting in an upright position.

It was 10:56 A.M. , Pacific Time, 1:56 P.M. Eastern Time. The 53-year- old mother of four had not slept much, and felt the pain of a pinched nerve in her neck as she straightened and stretched. With the altitude's lowering her ears popped and crinkled a little. She reached down for the purse at her feet, dug in, and pulled out a small bottle of aspirin. Now with her beverage taken away, she downed the two tiny white pills with a quick gulp, coughing a little to aid in their journey.

The plane touched down on the runway with a couple bouncy jerks. Connie waited until it came to a dead halt at the gate before undoing her seatbelt, just as the perky blond stewardess ordered. After standing, Connie reached up to the overhead compartment and pulled down a small, black, leather carry-on bag. She would have two more matching suitcases waiting at the luggage carousel just moments from now. But at this moment she was trying to visualize in her mind a thirty-two year old, tall, blond haired doctor.

In her seat near the back of the plane, Connie impatiently waited as rows of seats ahead of her emptied, one by one. Some of the passengers seemed to take their sweet time, with short steps and stops, awaiting the next person to step out of their seat, unload the contents of the overhead bin, and some even waited on fussy children.

When it came time, Connie stood up with her handbag in one arm, and a carry on in the other. It would take her a good eight minutes to get from the back of the plane to the front, and make it out to the terminal where Steve was waiting.

He was there standing tall and handsome as ever like she expected. She tried to read his expression, but it was blank.

"How was your flight?" he said.

"How's my daughter?" Her blue eyes met his with a steady gaze, unrelenting.

He didn't answer right away, as if holding back. "Still fighting, I hope," he finally said seconds later. He took her carry on and they began to walk towards the end of the terminal, getting on an escalator which would take them to the lower level.

"That didn't sound good," She shifted her purse to her left shoulder, hoping it wouldn't pull at the creak in her neck and cause anymore pain.

"Wait til we get to the car." Determined, Steve headed straight for the luggage carrousels, eagerly scanning for the one from JFK.

"Steve?" Connie said, her mind suddenly filling with some unwelcome image of her daughter's untimely death.

"She's fighting," he said again.

When they finally reached the carousel, they found it to be empty. Other passengers from the same flight gathered around, eager to claim their own baggage as well.

Tired, Connie found a bench and sat down, wondering how long it would be. She gave the tall blond man a tug on the elbow and he sat next to her.

"What happened?" she asked.

Reaching down he patted her hand, finding relief from the tense situation only when the carousel began to go around, and the bags of various shapes, colors and sizes began to appear through an opening in the wall. Connie got up when she saw the pair of matching suitcases appear.

Not long after, she found herself in a large parking garage, waiting for the man to load her luggage into the trunk of his newer styled car. It made her wonder how much money he and Julie were making off of their recent contract. Her daughter had to be rich as well.

Steve got in the drivers side of his vehicle and used the power locks to unlock the other doors. Connie got in and clicked on her seatbelt. Turning to him she said, "Now will you give me the bad news?"

Putting the car in reverse, he backed out of the space, and headed down a narrow isle way. "There were some problems this morning. The chest tube failed, and she stopped breathing. I mean even the vent couldn't keep," he paused, glancing over at her and saw she was already crying. "Her heart stopped. They were able to bring her back though. They took her down to surgery about an hour ago because apparently they didn't close the wound right the first time, and she's been losing oxygen."

Discouraged, Connie slammed her head back against the head rest. She wondered if it was a mistake to leave Julie's three siblings behind in Manhattan. Maybe the reason why she came was to make funeral arrangements for her daughter.

"There's been some other complications, but the surgeon wants to tell you personally. He's coming back around one," Steve told her.

"Why don't you just tell me, Steven?!" she demanded. "Is Julie dying?"

"I don't know."

In the TICU waiting room, Mike paced nervously, scuffling his feet now and then as if he really wanted to kick something. Maggie, who came just as soon as he got off the phone with her nearly three hours ago, sat in one of the small chairs stationed next to a coffee table.

"Would you stop already?" she begged.

He turned with a pained expression on his face.

"Can you come sit with me?" she asked.

He did as she wanted, but not because he wanted to, only because he knew he was adding to the already stressful situation.

"Hon, the doctor's going to come and talk to us just as soon as they're done." She reached over and touched his arm. "Try to stop worrying."

He jerked his arm away angrily. "That bullet was meant for me! I should be in there dying!"

She put her hands on his shoulders and massaged gently. "You shouldn't blame yourself. We went through this already."

He patted her hand. Looking up, he saw Steve in the doorway with a middle aged woman with shoulder length, curly, sandy blonde, graying hair. Mike had never even seen a photo of the woman, but it was easy to see where Jules tiny nose and dimples came from. "Mrs. Parrish?" he said, getting up from his chair. He went over to shake her hand. "I'm Mike Donovan."

"I know who you are, Mr. Donovan," Connie's words were less than cordial. She looked past him at Maggie. "Are you Maggie Blodgett?"

Maggie nodded, joining Mike.

"Any word on her condition?" Steve asked.

"No, they haven't said anything yet." Mike wondered what had garnered Connie's reaction… if Maitland said anything.'

"What happened, Mr. Donovan?" Connie demanded.

"You can call me Mike."

"Okay, Mike. What was so important she'd risk her life like that? I thought the war was supposed to be over and here you are putting her in danger again. Julie's not a rebel anymore!"

"Mrs. Parrish," Maggie interrupted. "If I may, Mike wasn't trying to get her shot. He was trying to help her. She didn't know there was any real danger."

"What happened?"

Mike motioned for her to come over and sit with him on one of the small couches. She followed, but kept her distance, choosing to sit on an adjacent chair instead.

"I know uh… Steve here told you part of what went on yesterday already." He folded his hands on his knees, as beads of sweat began to gather in his palms. "I've been doing a series of reports on the toxin ecodamage. On Friday I interviewed a guy Julie used to work with at Science Frontiers I knew he wasn't being straight with me when I talked to him, though I didn't and still don't understand why. I plan on doing more investigative work once Julie's stable again."

"You hope," Maggie said softly, handing him a cup of cool water.

Connie eyed the blond, unappreciative of her negative attitude. Maggie sat next to Mike who sipped from the cup.

"Anyway, uh… Kyle Bates who used to be part of our resistance group," he continued, Well, his dad owned Science Frontiers and Kyle has the key. So Julie and I went down there yesterday to meet him. We thought if she could get her files of the work she'd been doing for Nathan Bates, she could clear up any of the lies he told."

"So he was down there and he shot her?" Connie questioned.

"Not there when we arrived," he answered, setting the white styrafoam cup on the coffee table before him. "We were down in the basement. There wasn't any electricity so we took flashlights. Kyle said he had the files moved down there and we went looking for them. We found this room where Pico was burning those records. Julie was trying to find any that were salvageable when he came back, apparently to burn something else. Anyway, uh, Pico and I got into a shooting match. I was wearing a vest, Julie wasn't and she got hit."

Filled with doubt and disbelief, Connie sensed there was something he wasn't telling her. "What else? Are you saying she had no protection at all, nowhere to hide?"

"She might have, but she twisted her ankle before he found us."

Steve leaned against the doorway, listening to the story for what may have been the tenth time since yesterday. "You never said anything about a sprained ankle. What happened?"

"Nothing! It was a misunderstanding!."

"What?!" Connie asked.

"She tripped in that room. There was stuff on the floor. It was dark.

She hurt herself and could hardly walk."

"Why didn't you just say that yesterday then?" Steve asked.

"I don't know. It didn't seem important!" Mike was tired of the questions. His stomach growled from not having eaten since yesterday's breakfast.

"I wondered why they put ice on her ankle when she was brought in."

"Was it just a sprain?"

"I don't know. I haven't asked about it since yesterday."

Getting up, wanting to give her legs a stretch, Connie crossed the room and visited the complimentary coffee pot. She filled her cup half with decaf and half with regular. "What did you mean about a misunderstanding, Mike?" she said.

He paused, unsure if he wanted to explain it in front of Steve. "Well, she was pretty upset about her files being damaged. She was crying. I tried to hold her to calm her down and she moved away. She tripped over something."

Steve studied his expression. He seemed helpless, innocent, and full of regret.

"Interesting," Connie said coldly. "Because when I called Steven yesterday looking for Julie and he said she was with you, I wondered what the two of you were up to. I was kind of relieved when he implied you just needed to get some information from her to clear up what Doctor Pico said."

"Oh, and why is that?"

Before Connie could answer, Belkor appeared in the doorway next to Steve and cleared his throat. "Dr. Parrish is out of surgery now. She's in recovery."

Connie addressed him. "I am Connie Parrish, Julie's mother."

With a quick nod, Belkor touched her shoulder. "I'd like to speak with you alone about your daughter's condition. If you could, come with me."

Connie disappeared down the hallway with Dr. Belkor.


	14. Tyler on a Mission

**13 Tyler on a Mission**

Without a single responsibility to take care of this Sunday morning, ex-CIA man Ham Tyler sat in his living room thumbing through the front section of the LA Times. He read through the various pages about the economy. He reached to the local section of the paper, finding an article about ex-Resistance Leader, Dr. Juliet Parrish, being shot and in critical condition. Ham's eyes focused on the story, line by line. It didn't surprise him to find she'd gotten herself involved in some bit of trouble with Donovan, and just like any of her other friends would be, he picked up the phone, full of concern. It was Chris and Maggie's number he called first, not sure which hospital she would be at.

"Yeah?" Chris came on.

"Hey Chris, you know anything about Julie's condition? I just got my paper." He set the section down on his foot stool and reached for a thermos filled with black coffee.

"Yeah, Maggie and Mike are down there. Last I heard they took her back into surgery, something about her lung not stabilized. Maggie left about three hours ago. I've got CJ."

"You talked to Donovan about what happened?"

"We had plans this morning to go back out to Science Frontiers and get some disks, but he won't leave the hospital yet."

"They find the guy who shot her?"

"Uh-uh. No, the bastard's still out there, and you know how dependable the LAPD is. They got Kyle in the slammer for some unpaid tickets, meanwhile a psychopath is on the loose."

"You know anything about this guy, Dr. Pico?"

"Only that he used to work for Bates and he has it in for Julie."

Ham stood to his feet, reaching above the mantle for his .38 special. "I'm going to see what I can find, and if I can get the guy myself, and haul his ass in."

"I'd go with, but Maggie only lets Julie watch the kid. She's pretty adamant about that."

"I can handle it alone."

"Maybe you should call Donovan."

"Alright. I'll call you later and tell you what I find out. Oh, and where's Julie being treated at?"

"The Med Center."

"Where else." He reached for some shells in a little cigar box on the mantle.

"Be careful out there. Maggie and I have had enough shit to deal with since yesterday. Don't need you getting' shot too."

"Thanks. Later, Chris."

"Bye."

Hanging up the receiver, Ham stooped down and grabbed the local section of the paper. He tucked it under his arm, and started loading bullets into his belt.

* * *

Connie stared at her reflection in the ladies room, trying hard to reapply the foundation eaten away by her tears. Fear gripped her heart. Not long ago she watched Julie be wheeled back into the TICU room, a fragile shell.

Connie shuddered, hugging herself one last time before slipping out and back into the waiting room where her daughter's friends were. Maggie was on the couch again, sitting next to Mike and holding his hand. He closed his eyes, whether to hide tears or exhaustion, Connie wasn't sure.

Steve was on the other side of the room, sitting next to a vending machine.

"Steven," she called his name.

He went over to her and the others did too.

"She's bad off. The infections worsened. She's not responding to the antibiotic. Dr. Belkor's starting her on something else."

"He told us earlier," Mike said softly.

"It's a definite now," Steve told him.

"Did he give her odds of surviving this?" Mike asked.

"I think we know," Connie stared off at nothing. Touching up her base seemed futile after all. The tears flowed uncontrollable. "Excuse me," she cleared her throat. " I've got to call my other kids."

Maggie came over, and slipped an arm around Connie's shoulders. "Mrs. Parrish, please don't give up. Julie's still here."

Connie accepted the younger woman's gentle embrace. "Dr. Belkor said, if anyone wanted time alone with Julie now they could go sit with her for a while because…" Her words were cut off.

"I'll go first," Steve volunteered. It didn't surprise anyone. He headed straight to her room.

Maggie cried too. "I think I should start making phone calls to some of our old friends."

"Okay," Mike said, though he couldn't bare the thought of it. He wondered how much coverage was in the media since he'd last spoken to Mick Pierce How far had the information spread? Were there any breakthroughs? Was the bullet turned over to the police yet? Had Pico been found? Mike knew he had some phone calls of his own to make. If Julie passed onto that other place, he'd be sure it wasn't in vain.

* * *

Feverish and resting in a men's stall in Pio Pico Park, Dr. William Pico leaned against the cool metal, hoping it would provide some relief. Moments ago, he used the drinking fountain, knowing that a good amount of liquid might keep his fever under better control. He ran out of medication this morning, leaving the empty bottle of Tylenol on the ground near a swing set.

A hacking deep cough sent pain in his chest and down his back. He leaned over and spit up mucous into the dirty toilet, its yellow sticky goop greeting the water with a small splash. He leaned back against the wall again.

Light footsteps into the outer chamber could be heard. A small boy bent down and looked under the stall, and into Dr. Pico's anxious eyes.

"Are you okay, Mister?"

"Didn't your mother ever tell you about privacy, kid?"

The little boy straightened, going into the next stall and closing the door.

Pico heard and smelled the tinkle of his urine.

"You sounded sick," the boy said. "Want me to get my dad?"

"No," Pico said, touching the gun in his jacket pocket. "I'm fine."

He waited until after the boy washed his hands and exited the stall before leaving the bathroom. It seemed this was not a good place to hide after all.

* * *

A/N: This chapter and the next were the reasons why Ham Tyler was dropped as a Point of View character during this story's many revisions. I did not feel that I portrayed him accurately and am well aware that he has a huge following among the V fans.


	15. Paying Disrespect

**14 Paying Disrespect**

Dressed in a germ proof outer layer of blue O.R. scrubs, a surgical mask, rubber gloves, and protective shoe covers, Mike looked like he could be one of the medical crew who assisted in Julie's recent operations. Maggie watched him from the observatory room in the TICU as he passed by. The male nurse let him into Julie's room. Mike sat in the chair next to her bed, studying her figure, the bandages wrapped around part of her torso, the various contraptions sustaining her life.

He reached out and took hold of her right hand, and started talking to her. Maybe if he wasn't facing the right side of the room, Maggie might try to read his lips. She wondered what he'd say to her at a time like this. Whatever it is, she thought, it's sacred. She felt compassion for him. Her turn would be next, and then Connie's.

Maggie watched as Mike stood, leaned over and pressed a kiss to Julie's forehead. He stroked her pale cheek, and ran a hand through her soft blond hair. Julie didn't respond to any of it. She was too far sedated.

Mike sat again, and stayed there just holding her hand, as if wanting to connect with her in some deeper way. With his free hand he rubbed his eyes. He was crying now.

Startled by a man shouting out in the hallway, Maggie jumped.

"Sir, you can't go in there like that!" a female nurse yelled. "You have to leave your gun here, hospital rules."

Outside at the nurses station Ham slammed his pistol down on the counter. "I WANT IT BACK WHEN I LEAVE!."

"Who are you?"

"A special agent.""

"Do you have a badge?"

"Don't need one. I'm self-employed."

Nurse Ann let out a breath, full of doubt. For a second she wondered if this was the man who shot one of her patients.

"What's your name?"

Ham was in no mood for this. He wanted to get the information he needed from Donovan and go about his business.

"T…H…E"

The woman began jotting down the letters as he started to say him. The name Theodore popped in her mind. She wondered if he actually used it.

"F…" he continued, "I…"

"Is that your last name?" she asked.

"X," he said louder.

She glared at him.

"E,,, R." Ham spat.

"Ham?" Maggie Blodgett's voice caught him off guard.

Seeing what she'd spelled on her paper, Ann realized there was supposed to be a space in between two words. She reached for her phone muttering, "I'm calling security."

"It won't be necessary, "Maggie said. "He's with us."

"Could have fooled me," the nurse said. "Ham, is it?"

Ham cast a sardonic grin and turned to Maggie. "I need to talk to Donovan."

"He's with Julie now," she said. "They told us if we wanted to say goodbye, it might be our only chance. Would you like to spend some time—"

"I'll pay my respects at the funeral. Right now I need information."

Even Maggie was a little shocked at his callousness.

She walked back into the room, wondering if it was even a good idea. "Well at least wait 'til he's done." She sat down in her chair.

Mike was standing over Julie again. He squeezed her hand, not ready to let go. His bottom lip quivering, he headed to the door.

"Ham," he said softly. "How nice of you to come."

"I'm here on business."

As usual, Mike thought.

"I need information on Pico. You're the last person to speak with him."

Dabbing his face with a Kleenex from the observatory station, Mike muttered, "You goin' after him?"

"Right."

Mike exited the room, wanting to keep the peace where Julie lay dying. Ham followed him back into the waiting room. Steve sat on the couch with Connie.

Mike reached down and touched her shoulder. "Maggie's going in now."

She nodded her head against Steve's shoulder.

"Ham, this is Julie's mom, Connie," Mike said. "Mrs. Parrish, I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine and Julie's, Ham Tyler."

Ham stuck out his hand and grabbed hers, not saying anything. He turned back to Mike. "You going to give me that information now?"

"Your good friend is a very rude man," Connie said to Mike.

Ignoring her remark, and knowing under better circumstances he would have explained Ham's unusual charm, Mike went over to a small round table with two chairs. He took one, hoping his own composure was enough together he wouldn't break down in front of Tyler. "I've spoken with him a few times," he said. "He seemed decent enough, at first. I don't know why he went after her."

"I might," Steve said, patting Connie's shoulder. She let go of him so he could join the two men. Steve dragged a chair over to the table and straddled it, crossing his arms over its back.

"Well let's hear it," Mike said, surprised Steve was for once trying to help instead of accuse or attack him.

"Pico put a bid in for the contract Julie and I have. He wanted it desperately. He even underbid us."

"You work with Julie?" Ham said, surprised.

"Yeah," Steve answered. "I'm not supposed to talk about the project. She wasn't either. I don't know how much information she gave to Mr. Donovan here."

"Sounds serious," Mike said.

"What did she tell you?"

"Probably not enough to warrant your concern."

"It could be if you include it in your reports, or whatever Mr. Tyler plans to do with it."

"I plan to find the idiot who shot your fiancée and take him down," Ham said, annoyed with the guy.

"She told me you guys were working on chemical treatments for fresh water resources affected by the toxin. I told her I would keep it under wraps. I still intend to," Mike explained.

"Doesn't surprise me," Ham said. "About the dust, I mean. So what about this contract bid?"

"The guy was angry Julie and I got the contract." Steve straightened, bringing his arms down to his side. "Not long after we started working there he cornered her in the parking garage, yelling some accusations about how she was ruining him financially." "Were you there?" Mike asked.

"Unfortunately, no. I had some errands to run. But she had her pistol on her and he backed off."

"Apparently he didn't have a gun on him that day," Mike said, sarcastically.

"She knows how to defend herself when she wants to," Ham said. "What the hell happened yesterday?"

Mike shrugged, not wanting to go through the monotony of explaining it all again.

He noticed Connie was still sitting in her spot, just listening. Maybe she wasn't ready to go bid Julie farewell. "Tyler, there's another tid bit of information that hasn't been leaked to the press yet."

"Then maybe, you're more resourceful than what I had you pegged for, Gooder."

Mike gritted his teeth. He hated it when Tyler so freely exhibited arrogance, trying hard to make him look like an ass. "They found traces of a new form of bacteria on the bullet. It's most of the reason why Julie's having such a hard time."

"Something he created in a lab?"

"We don't know."

Ham motioned to Steve. "Can you get a sample and test it?"

"Not right now," he answered.

"What do you mean not right now?!"

"I'm staying here."

"We both are," Mike added.

Ham gave one of his genuine looks of disgust. "Is that all the information you want to share about Pico, Gooder?"

"There might be something in the personnel files down at Science Frontiers. I'm planning on looking for it along with Julie's data disks myself… eventually."

Ham got up, suddenly, slamming his chair against the table. "Well when you're through playing the role of the emotionally tormented ex, give me a call."

Mike shot to his feet. "Julie's in there dying, Ham! Can you for once in your life be a little less callous?"

"Not when there's work to be done," he said evenly. "You sitting by her bedside blubbering like an idiot isn't helping bring her killer to justice."

"That's crap and you know it, Tyler. Can you tell me if it was Chris who was shot, that you wouldn't want to—"

"This is a waste of time," Ham muttered angrily.

Ham brushed past Maggie, nearly knocking her down as she came into the room.

"Where's he going?" she wondered.

"Guess," Mike said.

Maggie turned to Connie. "Are you ready to go in there?"

The woman shook her head, but got up anyway. Maggie tried to slip her arm around Connie's shoulders, but Connie waved her away., her voice cracking she said. "No, I'll do this alone."

Hopelessly, Maggie watched her go. She turned back to Mike. "What did he want?"

"He's going after Pico."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Wait with the rest of you."

Maggie reached out for and held him. Maggie could think of the things she might say to him, but refrained for Steve's sake. She stared past Mikes shoulder and at the other man who still sat backwards on a chair facing the tiny round table. Steve's gaze dropped to the floor.


	16. Yellow Sticky Stuff

**15 Yellow Sticky Stuff**

Peering through a pair of infrared binoculars, Ham Tyler scanned the concrete steps, leading into the basement of Science Frontiers. He followed little trail of thick, yellow sticky substance to a door which led to a room that smelled like smoke and ashes. Glancing around the room he found an even larger pool of fluid. The two substances were different. He recognized the second immediately, it was human blood. He bent down, ran his fingers through a little of it, brought it to his nose and sniffed. The red liquid had a bit of a metallic odor to it. The yellow stuff that appeared in little amounts from the outside doorway to this room had no odor at all.

The blood, he guessed was Julie's. This is where she was shot. The yellow sticky substance was probably not from her. Something Donovan told him earlier jogged his memory. Julie was fighting a bacterial infection in her lungs, one previously unknown in the medical community. Ham realized if Pico invented some new germ, he may have been contaminated with it himself. If there was no other evidence of his whereabouts, this might lead to him.

Ham pulled a small vial out of his pocket, and with a fragment of burned paper, he collected a sample of what he considered to be mucous. He would check a few more areas for clues before following the trail back upstairs.

Thick yellow mucus secretions exited Julie's lungs via chest and breathing tubes. The male observatory nurse continued to monitor her weakening condition moment by moment and hour by hour. Her blood was drawn now and then to check on white cell count production. The doctor on duty, Nick Anderson, watched for the slightest sign of improvement.

Connie and Steve sat in the observation room while Mike remained in the waiting room. Maggie went home for the day to relieve Chris of his parental duties so he could go off to his job as a security officer.

Connie sat in her chair, almost drifted off into a deep nap when some of Julie's respiratory devices started sounding their warnings again. The nurse rushed into the room, and started a similar procedure as to what Steve saw him do to Julie earlier. A different set of female nurses came in and helped him.

"Mucus is too thick. We've gotta take it out," one of the girls said.

"She needs it. She's too weak," the male nurse argued.

"We have to suction her."

Steve stood to his feet anxiously watching. He knew better than to go in there as he did earlier. If there was nothing more that could be done to save Julie, he had to let them make the decision for her.

"She's going, isn't she?" Connie said, fighting back the tears.

Steve reached over and touched her hand. He couldn't bare to look as the trio of nurses pulled the long, narrow tube from Julie's throat and stuck a thicker one in. It was a suction device.

Also alerted a loud dinging noise, Mike stirred from his slumber on the small couch, rushed down the hallway and poked his head in the observatory room to see what all the commotion was. The nurses worked quickly to start administering CPR, after extracting all they could with the suction.

"Just let her go!" Connie cried.

Steve pulled her near. The nurses weren't listening to Connie's wishes, but focusing on the procedure. One nurse was gently doing compressions on the left side of Julie's torso and the other was using an oxygen bag.

Steve glanced over at Mike who remained watching, and then back to the monitors at Julie's bedside. The EKG didn't drop this time. The oxygen numbers faltered a little, but shot back up with the admission of CPR.

The male observatory nurse pulled the air bag away from Julie's face and watched her carefully. Her color went from blue to pale again. "Get Dr. Anderson."

He glanced up to see the tall dark haired news reporter joined the pair in the observatory room.

As one of the female nurses exited to page the doctor on duty, the other took the suctioning tubes and rinsed them in a nearby sink.

"She's expelling a lot more than we expected, "the man said to her.

"Maybe it's the antibiotic. I can call and see if the WBC results are back yet."

"Dr. Anderson should have them when he gets in." He peered down at his patient. "Hang in there blondie. It's not time to go yet."

Hearing his words, Mike breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't fully understand if what had just transpired was a good thing or a bad thing, but one thing which seemed to be taking place was Julie breathing on her own. He didn't know how it was possible. But it was.

"DR. ANDERSON TO TICU 4 STAT.. DR. ANDERSON TO TICU 4 STAT," a female voice came over the loudspeaker in the outside hall.

"She's still breathing," Steve said softly.

"How?" Connie asked.

He shrugged his shoulders against hers. He didn't care. He was just grateful.

After taking the reports from the nurses, Dr. Anderson had reached a decision. "The latest antibiotic Dr. Belkor prescribed is showing some signs of working. It's breaking up the mucous, but her body is still producing it faster than what our devices can clear it away," he told them.

"She's going to choke to death anyway?" Connie guessed, pulling away from Steve.

"If we put the breathing tube in, the mucus doesn't come up the trachea fast enough and she can't get air anyway. If she's in this deep sleep as she has been, she doesn't cough to help it up, and-" he paused for a moment, carefully considering his words, "The Pentobarbital she's on is slowing down her respiration ability. It won't let her body do what it needs to do to get rid of the mucous."

"You're going to pull her out of the coma?" Mike asked.

The doctor nodded.

"Will she be in a lot of pain?"

"Some, yeah." He pulled a metal clipboard away from his chest and began writing down some information. "We'll do everything in our power to keep her comfortable."

"How long until she wakes up?" Connie asked.

"Maybe not til morning." He clipped is black pen on the clip board. "And she might not at all if we can't clear the mucous in time. I know Dr. Belkor explained to you her chances. We weren't expecting her to make it through this afternoon, but she has."

The reminder pierced through Connie's heart. Only moments ago she was ready to let go of Julie, but now she didn't know if her daughter was coming or going. She thought about the phone call she'd made to her eldest son, Jeff Parrish, earlier, telling him to help his siblings get ready to fly out for Julie's funeral. They now had their suitcases packed and were on standby.

"You know we end visiting hours soon," he said. "One of our nurses will call you should there be any changes this evening, or overnight."

She nodded.

"We have your phone number in our records?"

"She's staying with me." Steve put an arm around Connie's shoulder. "We can come back first thing in the morning. I'll call work and explain what's going on, if they don't know already."

Mike noticed the time. He considered the possibility of calling off from his own job tomorrow night, but knew Mick would be anxious to receive the latest updates on Julie's condition, and any developments in the case of the missing Dr. Pico. There would be a lot of catching up to do once Mike got back to WKKG. He hoped to have time to go out to Science Frontiers and make an apologetic call to Sean before his afternoon shift began.

Julie's mother and her two exes said their goodbyes to her for the evening in hopes tomorrow she would be showing even greater signs of improvement.


	17. Picking Up Strays

**16 Picking up Strays on the Side of the Road**

Still on the trail of William Pico, by nightfall Ham reached the park where the sickly elderly man passed through earlier. Ham was going on foot for miles. He'd left a small shoebox containing something he thought Julie's friend Dr. Maitland might be interested in, in his car back at Science Frontiers. Ham searched various areas of the park, again finding thick globs of mucus in a man's bathroom stall But Pico had vanished.

Ham headed out towards a side road, searching and searching, ducking behind plants and bushes, out of sight. He worried a security guard might take note of him so he tried to lay low. As he walked down the dirt road, echoes of coughing could be heard. Ham pulled the .38 from his black leather coat pocket.

He spotted a drainage ditch running alongside the road. Again the coughing noises came and Ham slipped down into the concrete tube which was tall enough for a man to stand up in.

Less than ten yards away, Pico was hunched over, clearing his throat and spat mucus into a stream of water which ran beneath his shoes. Daylight from outside reflected off of the drainage as he saw a shadow of another person standing near. He straightened and started walking at a brisk pace.

"You're not going anywhere, Pal." Ham pointed his firearm at the Doctor's back. "Stop or I'll kill you."

Pico tried to run. His brown penny loafers splashed up murky water with the tread of each foot.

Ham took off after him. The older man slowed, going into a coughing and wheezing spell. Ham came from behind, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved his face down into the water.

Pico fought to lift his head, not wanting to meet his maker by drowning. He gurgled and choked some more. Ham raised own his right leg, pressing his heel down into the man's spine. Pain searing up his back, Pico let out a scream. Ham bent down, reached in his right inner coat pocket, pulled out a piece of cloth and tied Pico's hands behind his back.

Wracked by more fits of hacking, Pico squirmed to cover his mouth, but could not. He felt the cool tip of Ham's gun press up against the back of his neck. "Quit squirming."

"I need my medication," Pico said.

"SHUT UP!" Ham warned, cocking the pistol for added emphasis. He shoved Pico forward, but the old man was weak. Even as they made their way out of the tunnel he'd stopped several times to spit up the yellow substance he gagged on constantly. Wondering how long he had to live, or how Pico's illness would effect his escort back to Science Frontiers, Ham began to worry. He had to find another way to get back there.

* * *

Mike had just pulled into his driveway and gotten the key inside his door when the phone in his house started to ring. He rushed in, thinking it was probably some news about Julie. Maybe she was already awake, or maybe she was gone. He found the phone on the ledge connected to his kitchen.

"Hello.""

"Gooder."

"Tyler?" Mike heard the raspy cough of another male in the background.

"Got him," Ham explained. "I need you to pick me up."

"Okay?"

"I'm not far from you, near Pio Pico State Park. The man is real sick. I don't know if he's going to make it."

"Pneumonia?"

"Just get your ass down here. I'm at the West Side, near Tobias Avenue. I'll spot you."

"Be right there,"

* * *

Mike drove for ten minutes, doing about five miles above the speed limit, and more when he thought he could get away with it. When he got to the designated area, he shut off his headlights and reduced the speed to about five miles per hour.

It wasn't long before he saw two figures moving towards his car. He stopped.

Ham opened the rear passenger side door and shoved the old man in. Mike caught a glimpse of his face as the dome light came on and then went off. Filled with rage, he restrained himself from causing any physical harm to the man now.

"Mr. Pico, how nice to meet you again."

"How's Julie?" Ham asked.

"Still with us."

Pico coughed, spitting up stuff on the floor of Mike's car.

"He keeps muttering about needing a med," Ham said

"My antibiotic," Pico gasped. "I'll die from this."

"You've been to a doctor?" Mike questioned, not leading on Julie had the same symptoms, among other things.

"No, I-," he coughed again. "Why aren't you turning me into the police?"

"Less fun for us. So you let me guess," Mike said, only seconds later, "You wanna swing by your place and pick up the drug before we ask you some… questions."

"I've already answered your questions!"

"Not quite. I want to know why you did this to her!"

"Gooder-" Ham interrupted.

"What? You wanna wait til he's dead to interrogate? Not me!"

"That little bitch has been a thorn in my side since Bates hired her in." Pico explained.. "She had it coming."

Mike slammed on the brakes bringing the car to a fast halt. Ham was jolted into the back of the passenger side seat. Mike looked back at him and said, "You drive, I'll interrogate."

"No. You keep your mouth shut and drive. Whatever revenge you'er planning on isn't going to help now. You think the drug he's got will help Julie?"

Mike thought about it and turned the key in the ignition again. "I don't know what it is."

"Tell us more about the antibiotic," Ham nudged the man.

"She's got the infection?"

"Tell us!" Approaching San Gabriel Parkway, Mike turned on his headlights. "Where's your place?"

"On Cleveland in Montebello."

Mike realized he was heading in the wrong direction. He found a break in the meridian and made a sharp u-turn, turning back and then sped westward.

* * *

Juliet Parrish awoke several times Sunday evening, each time studying her surroundings, and being greeted with some intense pain in her chest and an overall all feeling of weakness.

When the observatory nurse came to explain where she was and how came to be there, she couldn't ask questions. Her throat hurt too much. She tried to lift her right arm, but it only sent pain radiating deep into her chest. She gasped and tried to speak, but could not.

She knew she had been shot and was operated on twice. Julie tried to remember how she'd been shot. She thought about being with Mike on Saturday at Science Frontiers, finding her research documents destroyed. Through a clouded mind, intoxicated with various drugs to sustain her, Julie tried to remember every detail of the rendezvous. The exhaustion of just surviving gave way to slumber, and she faded out again.


	18. First Spoken Words

**17 First Spoken Words**

It had to hurt.

Mike watched anxiously as the medical attendants forced the thin plastic tube back down her throat to suction out whatever she'd been choking on. He'd arrived just a few minutes ago, being woken with a phone call. It seemed the one word Julie managed to say was Donovan, and she'd tried to say it a few times.

He didn't know if the nurses told her about Connie flying in from New York, or being here most of the day yesterday. He tried to think of who else Julie might want near her now. She had not asked for her close friend Maggie Blodgett either.

"You can come in now," Nurse Tiffany told him

The others put their equipment away. Mike stepped in the tiny room, going to Julie's side. She had her left hand over her face, balling.

"I'm here." He touched her right hand.

Julie turned her head towards him looking as though she were terrorized.

"Mmm-ike."

"Yeah." He leaned down brushing his lips against her cheeks. Her skin was warm. He straightened, continuing to hold her gaze. "You gave us a scare there, kiddo."

She tried to speak again, but couldn't get the air to form the words.

"It's all right. You don't have to talk now. Save your strength to get well."

"P… Pic…. Pico," she said softly.

He wasn't going to tell her now about what took place last night, knowing if there were things left unanswered it might cause her more distress.

He grabbed her hand. "Don't worry. I'm on it. The Police are on it." He almost said Ham Tyler was on it too, but figured that would just lead to more questions from her.

Julie felt his hand touching hers, warm and gentle. She wished she weren't so weak. Her small fingers closed around his hand and she squeezed. He smiled back at her.

"Don't," she swallowed some stuff which collected in the back of her throat and began to cough.

"Shh."

"Don't leave me," she cried. "mmmmm….. sc-scared."

"Julie, your mom's in town. I'm sure they probably already called her and told her you're awake now. I'm sure she'll be here soon."

"I…" she gasped, starting to choke again, her expression twisted, showing her discomfort.

"Breathe." His eyes focused intently on hers.

She brought her left hand to her mouth, clenching her fist, and letting go of him with her right hand. She tried to inhale, only to be met with sharp pain and the feeling of a heavy weight upon her, crushing her chest. After about a minute, and gathering the attention from the TICU observatory nurse, Julie quit coughing, spitting up some of the yellow mucus into a small pink tray.

"Mr. Donovan, I think maybe Julie should rest now," the man said, pulling the tray away from her mouth.

"Nnnn," she started to say, only to be greeted with a spell of coughing again.

"If they want you to sleep its better for you," Mike agreed, winking at her. "I'll be back later to check on you."

'When?' she wanted to ask and tried to sit up a little, thinking she might get more air to talk that way, but the observatory nurse held her down.

"Don't move. You have stitches."

Frustrated, Julie pressed her head deeper into her pillow, only to find Mikes face in hers again. Another kiss on the cheek.

"Get some rest."

Crying and feeling helpless, Julie watched him go.

* * *

"Why didn't you call me first?" Connie Parrish was furious, staring down Ann, at the nurses station. Steve Maitland stood beside her.

"She was asking for Mr. Donovan," Ann explained, making a note these guests arrived at 8: 17. A.M. in her log book.

"Mike Donovan is not her relative, I am!" Connie hurried into Julie's room, Steve keeping up with her.

Kept awake by her own thoughts, Julie lay in her bed.

"Honey," Connie went over to her side.

Steve stayed in the doorway watching the mother and daughter reunion.

Connie stooped down and tousled Julie's hair. "I'm so glad you're alive."

Putting her left arm around Connie's right shoulder, Julie patted her on the back.

After a brief moment, Connie pulled away. "Steve's here."

Julie turned her head towards the blond male. He gave her a little wave.

"H-hi," she said.

Steve came over to join Julie's mom. He planted a kiss on her forehead. "How you feeling?"

She didn't answer, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. He stepped back a little. "You're warm, Julie. Want some water?"

She shook her head, thinking trying to down any liquid right now would set off another spell of hacking, and cause her more pain in the chest.

"mmmmm…. Ok-okay."

Connie squeezed her hand. "We were so worried for you."

Steve gave Julie another smile, "Your mom's staying with me."

"Steven's such a sweetie." Connie put her purse down on a side table. "We plan to stay the whole day here. But I thought if you needed anything we might go by your place later. Would you like that?"

Julie shrugged. The last thing she wanted was her mother going to her apartment. In a way, she was glad Steve was putting her up, or putting up with her.

"Silly me," Connie chuckled. "You're probably not thinking about things now."

"Mmmm-" Julie started to say. She felt a tickle in her chest and coughed again. The phlegm came up, in what seemed like an endless fit of coughing. But it wasn't enough. The TICU nurses were called.

Julie felt the tube being shoved down her throat as well as an enormous amount of pain.

She tried to fight them off, but the man who prevented her from sitting up earlier pushed her back firmly again.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "We have to do this."

Connie backed away, letting the nurses go to work on her daughter. Steve led her into the observatory room. She clung to him, burying her face in his chest. She cried against him, and offered a silent prayer.


	19. Silencing the Naysayers

**18 Silencing the Naysayers**

"You won't give her the pills?" Mike kind of understood why Julie's physician was being so cautious. But he also knew deep down the medication could probably cure her much quicker than what was being currently used. After all, this was something William Pico had created to destroy the bacteria he'd made.

Dr. Pete Holland looked up from his office desk. "Mr. Donovan I understand where you're coming from. And we're doing everything to help Julie. Doctors Belkor and Anderson are wonderful specialists. I trust their judgment."

"But what she has hasn't been treated before. That's a new strain of pneumonia."

"Yes, it is," he nodded getting up from his chair. "But we don't know the chemical makeup of what's in those pills. And for all we know this Dr. Pico could be lying to you. You said he lied during your interview, and that's how Julie got into the trouble she's in now."

Mike thought, not knowing how to get through to him. He held out the small white capsule, offering it to the doctor. "Can't you have it tested in a lab or something? Just see if it would be safe to give her?"

"Mr. Donovan, tests like that could take days to run. By the time we find out anything Julie might be a whole lot better or she might be worse. Besides, it's not something our facilities are capable of. We don't test drugs like that. We prescribe drugs which are patented, after the clinical trials are run. Sorry."

Glassy eyed, Mike turned and headed for the door. It was no use.

* * *

Ham lifted the shovel out of the back of his black van. He found a field, far away from Whittier, or Science Frontiers. He found a place to bury the body.

He began digging in the hard ground, lifting a spade full of dirt over his right shoulder blade and heaving it behind himself, one by one. Pico didn't have the right of going 6 feet under. That was more work than Ham wanted to do right now. He had a lot on his mind, places to go, people to see… business to conduct.

He knew Donovan would be angry with him when faced with the news he hit the old man in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out in an act of anger. The man wouldn't shut up about how Ham and Mike weren't going to get away with what they did to him… and how he wasn't sorry he'd shot Juliet Parrish. He'd kept reiterating his desire that the "bitch should die" for what she'd done to him. Ham had had enough, and he was almost positive if he'd been there, Donovan would have done the same thing.

Once the ground was open a good two feet or so down and the trash bag could be laid in there, Ham lifted the old man in the garbage bag out of his trunk and dropped him into the opening. He grabbed the shovel again, placing layer upon layer of dirt upon the bag. He smoothed it over with the back of the shovel head, then got in his car and drove off.

* * *

Julie knew one way to silence her mother. She pretended to be sleeping even when she wasn't. She'd found when she was awake, her mother was at her side constantly going on about what a good man Steve Maitland was, and how he was going to take care of Julie when this was all over with .

Julie thought when she had the strength, when she could speak and say what was on her own mind she'd make it clear to Connie she did not plan on going back to Steve. In fact, she planned on never contacting him again once they were through working on their project. She wanted to move on with her life. She even considered having her phone number changed.

Three months ago, Julie packed all her things up and left him. It wasn't the first time, but it certainly was going to be the last. He had been too protective of her, too overbearing, not giving her the space she needed. She hadn't been able to go anywhere without having to call and check in. On days when she wanted to spend time with Maggie and go to the beach, he always seemed to have plans to do other things. He hadn't liked having little CJ around either. Life always seemed to be about what he wanted and dealing with is insecurities about losing her again. Julie had grown tired of it. One day the anger she felt towards him had grown to be greater than her love for him. Eventually the warmth in her heart was gone. That was just a week before they had won the contract and she reluctantly took on the project knowing she would still have to see him and deal with him everyday.

It bugged her Steve was sitting in the observatory room watching her. She wished he would leave and go to work like he was supposed to. She wanted to tell him he didn't need to worry about her, there were others who would look out for her. Still, she was aware of the situation with Steve and her mother. Steve was Connie's transportation source and her provider of lodging.

Julie opened her eyes, giving into a wave of coughing spells. Connie rushed to her side with the little pink tray in her hand. But nothing came up. Burning pain ripped through Julie's chest, and tugged at her stitches. She hated to think about the scar this injury would leave, and wondered how big the entry wound and the incision were.

She waved her mother away, signaling she was okay.

Connie sat down, relieved the nurse was not needed to help Julie this time.

"Knock knock." Mike stood in the doorway and rapped on the post a little.

Julie smiled at him.

"You feeling any better?" He came over to her side and touched her forehead. She was much cooler now.

"Mmm hmm." Some how she'd managed to make the sound. "Wh- where?" she gasped.

"I had some errands. I can't stay long. I have to work tonight."

Julie sensed there were things he wasn't telling her, secrets he was keeping. She wanted to ask him if they had found Pico yet, or if he had gotten anymore answers. Then she thought about what she brought with her to Science Frontiers that day, and wondered if it was still there. Mike would have the answer.

"Mmm—My c-arrrrrrr?"

"I don't know," he said. "I don't think they towed it. Maggie took me to get mine."

She wondered why it would have been necessary, but that would be a long sentence to try to get out.

"Why?" She'd managed to say with one breath, making her sore throat contract and she coughed.

"I wish I could tell you, but you seem to be talking a lot more than they want you to. Why don't we wait and talk about it when you're better."

She rolled her eyes, displeased with his response. "To- mmmmmmm—morrow?"

"Maybe."

She thought of her car again, out there, abandoned. What if Pico came back and did something to it?

"My c-car."

"Why don't you send Maitland for it?" he asked, realizing it was a two person job and maybe Connie could help if she were willing to follow Steve back to his house.

"Nnnnnn….no," she said. "Nen—Nev-ver….." she paused, out of breath. "Mmmind."

Connie heard the exchange, saw the angry look on her daughter's face and wanted to offer some reassurance. "Oh honey, I'm sure Steven wouldn't mind doing it for you. I'll go ask him now."

"No!"

Mike gazed into Julie's furious blue eyes and said, "Well if it means that much to you I'll go get it. I'm going to have to find someone to help me though."

"Mmm…Mag," she started to go into one of her coughing spells again.

"Maggie," Mike said it for her, picking up a white cup and putting the straw to Julie's lips. She only took a small sip.

"Th- th-," she gasped for air again, feeling the pain in her chest grow stronger. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll need keys though." He glanced over at Connie.

She got up from her chair and went over to a storage closet, taking Julie's crocheted handbag out. "When will you be back?" She pressed the keys into his left hand.

"Tomorrow morning. I'll call and check on her later. I've got a little break. I have to do the late show."

"Are you reporting on this?"

"I'm not sure what they'll give me." He shoved the keys into his right blue jean pocket and went back over to Julie. He decided not to kiss her cheek this time. It would probably make her uncomfortable with Connie and Steve around. "Try to get some rest."

"Kay." she said, wondering if it was a good idea to have him leave her car at her apartment. Hopefully, he'd figure out it needed to go in the garage. But she'd never told anyone which one it was.

Mike turned and went into the observatory room. Steve glanced up at him.

"Got a minute?" Mike asked. He motioned for Steve to follow him down to the waiting area where they could talk in private.

"What?" the blond said.

Mike reached in his pocket and took out a white pill, putting it in Steve's hand. "What I'm going to say I don't want you to tell Julie."

Steve studied the pill, turning it in his fingers. It looked like an ordinary capsule. "What is this?"

"We were right about Pico creating a new form of Pneumonia. The good news is, he also made an antidote. That's the pill you're holding. Only problem is her family Doctor… uh Holland's his name… he's in the medical facility across the street… he won't give it to her."

"Where did this come from?"

"Pico's place. Ham Tyler has him. He's holding him. He's got the infection too. We're waiting for him to get better before we haul him in."

"Why don't you just call the LAPD?"

Mike frowned. "Because if his treatment is delayed there's a chance he won't live and we don't want that to happen. He's got to pay for what he did."

Steve blinked, and stared at the pill. "There's only one pill here. Do you think it can save her?"

"There's more. I need you to test it. See what it is, make sure its safe to give it to her, then maybe somehow—"

"You'll convince her to swallow it?"

"Don't know. Gotta find out what it is first.."

"Maybe I can go home for a bit and leave Connie here."

"That's the spirit," Mike said, patting him on the arm. "I've gotta run."

Steve followed him all the way to the main entry of the TICU, putting the pill in his pant pocket.


	20. Unanswered Questions

**19 Unanswered Questions**

Mike swung by Maggie's house on the way home from the hospital, knowing she would not be leaving for work until 2 :30 p.m. She was there alone with her son, in the kitchen, trying to get him to eat something from a jar that looked like it had already been digested.

When she brought the spoon near CJ's mouth he reached for it, squishing the green slime between his fingers, brought the substance to his lips and made a face that spoke of sheer disgust.

"You're not hungry," she announced, setting the jar aside on the table.

Mike watched, amused. "Can't say I blame him."

The little boy turned toward Mike, curious about the stranger.

"So Julie's improved a lot, huh?" Maggie reached for a damp towel and started wiping CJ's little chubby fingers.

"Yeah, I'll say."

"Does she talk?"

"A little bit. A lot more than she should. She's got a lot of congestion still and I can imagine what it might feel like since they took the breathing tube out."

"She seems to know what's going on with her?"

He nodded. "I was surprised I was the first person she asked for."

Maggie smiled. "Well, at least she trusts you. I can imagine how she feels with her mom and Steve there. She might see you as a ray of sunshine."

Little CJ put up his arms as Maggie snapped off the plastic high chair tray. She lifted him out and set him on the floor. He stole a look from Mike, and remained at his mother's feet, uncertain.

"It's okay. Mr. Donovan doesn't bite." Maggie began wiping the tray with her cloth.

"A ray of sunshine, huh?" Mike asked.

"How is she getting on with Connie?"

"I'm not sure," he said. "But she was pretty adamant I didn't send Steve for her car. I thought Connie could help him get it."

"Her car?"

"Yeah, it's at Science Frontiers."

With a slight shake of the head Maggie remarked, "The girl's critically ill and she asks about her car."

"It must mean a lot to her. She asked me to go get it. She suggested you help."

"You know I have to work today?"

"Me too. I thought maybe tomorrow morning we could, if you don't mind." He watched CJ let go of Maggie's legs, raise his arms for balance and take a step forward, and then another. Then he plopped to the ground, his expression awash with disappointment. He turned and lowered himself into a crawling position, going for some toy he threw under the table earlier.

"What about nine?" Maggie asked.

"Do you remember how to get there?"

Maggie thought about it. She had never been out to the former scientific research facility. "No. Draw me a map." She disappeared into the living room, going to fetch a piece of paper and a pencil and then returned with them. "Do you think it's safe to go there, I mean with the baby? Do you think that guy is still around?"

"No he isn't. Ham and I nabbed him last night."

"What?"

"He's with Ham. I'm about to go check on him, see if I can get him to talk some more."

"Maybe Ham already has."

"Yeah, well I'm a little worried about that too." The thought of Tyler using excessive force was not a welcome one.

"Did you ever get a chance to call Sean?"

Mike wondered why she had to go and remind him, as if he didn't have enough to deal with. "Not yet."

"Well you should," she said gently, not wanting to make him feel bad.

"I know." Feeling tug on his left pant leg he looked down to see CJ pulling himself into a standing position.

The little boy raised his fist, clutching a small wooden block in it. "Cah," he said.

"What's he saying?" Mike asked.

"He said car," Maggie giggled. "Everything is a car."

Mike reached down and tousled the boy's blonde curly locks. "Wait a few years kid, and Uncle Mike will show you want a real car is."

CJ grinned back at him showing his few teeth.

"Are you going to be around in a few years?" Maggie teased.

"Sure." He reached around to the back of his chair, and pulled off a brown windbreaker.

Maggie picked CJ up and walked Mike to the front door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

Wearing black leather gloves, Ham sifted through the mess that was Pico's in-home laboratory. He pushed aside vials, various shaped beakers, containers and solutions, thumbing through different slides. He read the labels on each one, collecting a few which might be of interest here and there.

He set them aside in a plastic storage bin and sifted through a drawer full of notes and papers. He figured maybe Steve, or even Julie, should she survive, would find them valuable.

He reached down and removed a blood soaked area rug by rolling it up and carrying it over his shoulder down a flight of stairs and went to an outside dumpster . The appalling stench of death greeted him as he lifted the brown lid of the waste container. He peeked inside and held his breath when he saw a portion of a cattle carcass, its brains spilling out, and maggots infesting it. A group of flies came out of the dumpster towards Ham and dispersed. He gagged, backing away.

The familiar sound of Mike's Toyota Camry hummed up the driveway. Ham turned and looked as the car stopped and its driver got out. Mike watched as Ham rubbed his own bloodied, but gloved hands on his pants.

"What the hell have you done?" Mike demanded.

Ham didn't answer, instead flashing Mike a look of irritation.

"Ham, did you kill him?"

"He was an old man, sick with lung disease." Ham headed back inside.

Mike wondered where the body was and noticed a trail of red blood running down the side of the dumpster. He pulled back the lid and peered inside, his stomach turning with instant displeasure as he got a whiff of its contents. But the torso and head he saw in there weren't human. They were that of a cow.

He hurried inside the mansion, after Ham.

"You've got some explaining to do. What the hells in there?"

"The man was a scientist, Donovan. I don't know what he was doing with the cattle."

Ham picked up a box and shoved it in Mike's hands. "We've got to get out of here before the police come looking for Pico again. Take this out to the car. I think Steve might be able to use them."

Mike glanced down and saw samples of various glass slides and petri dishes.

Ham grabbed a larger box and the two headed out to the car.

"What did you do with the body?" Mike asked.

"Disposed of it."

"Why'd you do it?"

Without answering, Ham picked up a vial out of the large box he was holding in his hands. "This is the bacteria Julie's been fighting. See that Maitland knows which vial to look for."

"Where are you going?"

"I've got a little business to take care of." Ham shoved his box in the back seat of Mike's car. "Hold on a minute. I have something else."

He went over to his own car and pulled out a shoebox from the back seat.

"What is it?" Mike asked.

"A present for Julie if she comes out of this."

Mike took the box from him, sneaking a peek inside. There had to be no less than 200 data disks. "You went back to Science Frontiers?"

"Mmm hmm." Slamming the door, Ham fumbled for his keys, got in the front seat and started the engine. He said nothing more and sped off leaving Mike both confused and aggravated.


	21. Pico's Shady Behavior

**20 Pico's Shady Behavior**

Mike arrived in the busy newsroom of WKKG at two in the afternoon, stopping by Mick's desk to check for the evening's assignments.

"How's your friend?" Mick wondered.

"A little better."

"Have you gotten any updates as far as the bacteria found on the bullet or the whereabouts of Dr. Pico."

"Not really."

"Well that's what you're on today. The phone's been ringing off the hook. It seems Pico had some shady activity for his last employer as well."

"Who was that?"

Mick reached for a stack of printouts on his desk, shoving them in Mikes hand. "A place called Biogenics up in Malibu."

"What did he get himself into?"

"A bunch of hot water with the CEO, embezzlement, you name it. It's all there."

Mike scanned the papers reading various lines. A figure of $132,000 stared back at him, the approximate amount Pico took from the company. He wasn't surprised. "It still doesn't explain why he lied about Julie's research."

"That's your job." Mick gave him a tap on the shoulder. "I want you to make the calls, find out. Find who's close to her and if there were any other instances lately."

A feeling of uneasiness came over Mike. He already possessed information he couldn't share without putting Julie and Steve's project in jeopardy. In fact, the more he thought about it this whole situation was redundant. The fact that Julie didn't tell him how Pico approached her several months back didn't make sense. Deep down he wanted to talk to her just as badly as she seemed to want to talk to him.

"I think I might know someone."

"Who's that?"

"Well I hate to ask questions like that right now. He's pretty upset about Julie's condition too."

"All you can do is ask."

The thought of Steve Maitland doing an on camera interview tonight didn't sit well with Mike. He knew that Maitland would want more time to prepare, not revealing any information about the current project which seemed to be Pico's main motive for what he'd done to Julie.

"I'll see if I can get a hold of him."

Mike went over to his desk, picked up the phone book and looked for Steve's number in the Yellow Pages. He dialed the number, hopeful that Steve would pick up, but there was no answer. He tried the hospital to find that Steve wasn't there either. He decided that route was a lost, cause, at least for today. Maybe he could catch him at the hospital tomorrow.

He picked up the phone and dialed the LAPD.

The night grew darker as Steve drove Connie back to his place for the second evening in a row. Connie rested her neck on the headrest and kept thinking about the long day, and the day before. She heard with her own ears Julie's protest against Steve picking up her car for her. She had also seen Julie try to hug him when he came to see her in the morning. Things don't add up. Or maybe it's just all the medication she's on. She's not thinking clearly.

Connie reminded herself of what Steve confided in her only two days ago, Julie left him. It was obvious because none of her daughter's things were at his apartment as they had been Connie visited them last summer. There were no traces of anything more than a friendship between them, except for Steve's anguish over Julie's condition. Connie didn't understand how her daughter could openly talk about marriage one month, and abruptly end the relationship the next.

Steve turned the wheel, pulling into a McDonald's parking lot. He got in line behind several other cars and waited. Moments later, he drove up to place his order. Connie listened disapprovingly to him rattle off several items. Her thoughts drifted to Mike Donovan, and her concern of Julie's involvement with him.

"Why did Mr. Donovan pull you aside earlier?"

"He had to give me something." Steve reached in the white paper sack for a handful of crispy fries, and shoved them in his mouth, washing them down with some Coke.

"Something to do with Julie?"

He nodded, setting the cup back down in the middle console. "I can't talk about it."

"Oh, Steven. C'mon. I am her mother!"

"I know, it's just-" he started to say. "I promised Donovan I wouldn't for now."

"And you trust him?" she said incredulously.

"I don't think he'd do anything to put Julie in jeopardy. He's just as concerned as we are."

"The doctors said she's improving."

"The doctors have never seen that bacteria before. They don't realize how powerful it is."

"And you think you do?"

"I'm in the dark like the rest, but I took a sample of her mucous myself. And I took it home earlier and—"

"You did what? When did you do that? Why did you do that?"

"I need to know she's receiving the right care."

Connie tried to remember when he'd had a chance to be alone with Julie, before he left abruptly without warning. She figured it must have been when she slipped out of the room to use the restroom, and Julie was sleeping.

"So what did you do with the sample?"

"It's growing in my lab at home."

"Growing?!"

"I'm going to see what it does."

"Steven that's insane!"

"I'm sure Julie would want me to." He pulled the car in his driveway and got out of it, taking the McDonald's bag and its now empty contents to his first floor apartment.

Connie followed, making a quick trip to the bathroom. It had been much too long of a drive with her urinary incontinence acting up these days.

In his bedroom, Steve flipped the light switch and studied the contents of not only what was growing from Julie's mucus sample, but the other samples provide by Ham Tyler. He was not happy with what he saw. Both Pico's and Julie's samples were both growing at the same rate. He knew he'd be up most of the night trying to see what, if anything could get the growth under control. The fact that he actually planned on going into work tomorrow to play catch up was not anymore stimulating.


	22. A Few of Her Favorite Things

**21 A Few of Her Favorite Things**

Woken up bright and early by the jail guard, Kyle Bates was led to the men's showers and cleaned himself. He just spent his third night in jail. Today was his court hearing and he dressed appropriately in a black suit his good friend Mungo brought from home. Kyle knew him since high school, before the two of them dropped out. . Back then, the young men were inseparable, raising a ruckus, skipping out of school and conjuring up all kinds of trouble. Kyle had a record and a reputation even before joining the resistance movement. Today, he hoped his past would not come into play. He had three speeding tickets, all received within the past few months, and all unpaid. What was his defense? He had none.

After dressing in the Chaps navy blue pin striped suit, Kyle stood in front of the bathroom mirror running a small Goody pocket comb through his brown locks. He glanced down at his watch, a diamond studded Rolex which had once belonged to his father. Like all the other things in his possession, Kyle thought of selling it. Yet, it seemed too personal to let go of.

At 7:23 he was handcuffed again and led to a squad car which took him to the courthouse. He must've waited over an hour in the lobby for his turn. His appointment was later than expected. It seemed there'd been some technical difficulties in the case before his. He watched as an angry young man was led away, cursing, and threatening to pay back his lawyer for not getting him off.

Kyle's own lawyer was a Bates family friend, one who helped Nathan during the legal wrangling of setting up Science Frontiers, and getting the sole rights to the red dust and the antitoxin developed by the resistance.

Attorney Paul Maynard paced back and forth in the lobby, boredom evident. He checked the time periodically. Kyle sensed the lawyer had other appointments. He wondered what he would tell the judge to acquit him.

Things did not go as easy for Kyle as he hoped. The verdict came back guilty. Kyle eventually learned he was going to spend another 6 weeks in jail for his reckless behavior.

* * *

Tuesday morning, Julie woke up in a lot of pain, but with less congestion than she had the day before. It seemed the antibiotic was working. Her latest blood test results concurred. It was around 7 am when her Dr. Pete Holland came to visit, giving Julie and her mother an overview of her health as it was. He announced today the nurses would be removing Julie's chest and feeding tubes. They wanted to try to get her into a sitting position as well.

Those exercises began when breakfast arrived at eight. Nurse Ann reached over and pressed the head elevation lever while another attendant held Julie's hand, allowing her to use it to pull herself up a little.

"Ughhhhh—" she cried, straining.

"Almost there, hon," Ann said.

Connie watched as the bed stopped. It seemed as if Julie's head had only been raised about 6 inches. She didn't understand how her daughter could eat breakfast like that.

"Is that it?" Connie asked.

Julie felt the pull in her chest wound, stinging pain as the suture faced a little movement. She couldn't help but cry, and she lashed out her mother. "I c-can't, Mom!"

"It's good enough for today, Juliet," Ann smiled down at her. "You are doing so much better."

Julie coughed a little, reaching for her own glass of water this time. She had to tilt the cup sideways to get it even with her chin.

"Are you hungry?" Connie asked, lifting the plastic beige cover off a small bowl of cream of wheat. She pushed the bed tray towards Julie, but there was no way she could feed herself in the position she was in.

Julie eyed the food and made a face. "Cereal?"

"You used to love it when you were little."

The injured woman drew a deep breath, "Not any- mmm—more."

Nurse Ann picked up the tray. "Well we'll just send it back then, won't we? I'll get you a menu."

Connie watched her leave. "You're acting spoiled, Julie."

"It's mm—mm-my bi-hllllll." she gasped.

"I take it you have medical insurance. They haven't asked me any questions. I'm assuming Dr. Holland's office provided that information."

"Co," she started coughing again. Connie put the straw to her mouth.

"Cobra?"

Julie nodded.

"You don't have insurance through work?"

"We...," she gasped, "sub… cont."

"Subcontract?"

Another nod.

"Yes, Steven was telling me about that." Her mother seemed to be bothered as she picked up her purse from the empty rocking chair next to Julie's bed and set it on the floor. "It doesn't seem stable."

"Pays good." She hoped her mother wouldn't ask how much, because Julie knew if she didn't make it out of here before Steve wrapped up the project, she would receive a lot less than what she'd agreed to.

"Are you still paying on student loans, I mean for the Ph.D?" Connie knew her daughter received several scholarships for her first eight years of schooling, but didn't know of anything beyond that.

"P-paid off." It was in fact Nathan Bates who helped Julie return to school so she could obtain her doctorate after the first war ended.

Julie's eyes darted towards the doorway as nurse Ann returned with a blue piece of paper and held it out before her saying, "I hear the pancakes are good. We have special blueberry syrup."

Reading the menu, line by line, it didn't take Julie long to pick something. "Yogurt."

"Oh, c'mon honey," Connie protested. "You're never going to get your strength back on yogurt."

"Let her eat what she wants. She's not really had anything solid since Saturday, right hon?" Ann winked at her patient.

"That's not solid food." the mother argued again.

"Have y-you?" Julie started to say. "Eaten yet, Mom?"

Connie shook her head.

"H-hand…..mmmmm…my." Julie stopped and motioned towards the closet.

"What, hon?"

"Purse."

Connie grabbed the crocheted handbag and gave it to her. Julie reached in and fished for her wallet. Opening it, she pulled out a twenty and tried to hand it to her mother.

"Go… ea…..eat."

"It's okay, mom has money. You keep it." Connie picked her own purse up off the floor. "I know you're just trying to get rid of me."

"Nnnnnn—no."

"Momma knows when you tell a lie, Juliet. And Santa doesn't come either."

Good thing it's not Christmas, Julie mused.

"I'll get that yogurt," Ann took the blue menu from Julie "Why don't you take a catnap? I'll be back in a bit."

Ann turned the lights down when she exited the room. Julie closed her eyes and tried not to think.

* * *

Around 9 am in the morning, Maggie strapped CJ in his car seat, and waited for Mike to arrive at her house. He wasn't but a few minutes late for which he apologized and blamed on LA traffic as he joined her in the front seat.

He glanced back at CJ and asked "How you doin' there kiddo?"

CJ held out a stuffed teddy bear to him and said, "Cah."

"Nice wheels," Mike chuckled, reaching back and touching the teddy bear's feet. CJ quickly pulled it out of Mike's reach, unwilling to share.

Maggie flashed him a look. "Good morning to you too, Mr. Donovan. How are you?"

"Fine. Have you called and checked on Julie?"

"I talked to her mom about an hour ago. They took the feeding and chest tubes out. She had some yogurt, but it didn't stay down long. I'm thinking it's all the medication she's on."

"Did she say if she could talk better yet?"

Maggie put the car into gear and headed south on her street. "Connie said she was, but she wouldn't put her on. She said she needed to rest."

"Are you going by there when we're done?"

"No, I will later. I can't take CJ up to the ICU."

"If you want to see her I'll watch him for you."

She paused for a beat, considering. "He's not good with strangers. I'll just go later."

Mike wondered if it was more the case Maggie didn't trust him with her son. He hoped to have better relationships with several of his resistance pals in the months to come annoyed he had become such a loner lately.

Concerned about Mikes sudden quietness, fearing she'd caused it, moments later Maggie decided to break the ice. "What do you think of Julie's car?"

"It's not her," he said, honestly, which was exactly what he thought the day he saw her drive up in it.

"I know," Maggie chuckled. "It's more fit for a teenager."

"My son would love it. He's into sports cars, Corvettes, Camaro's, Tranzam's. Did Maitland pick it out for her?"

"No. She won it in a drawing, actually. Well she had three to choose from. Of course she had to pick the most outrageous one available."

"What were the other choices?"

"I think she said it was between a blue Mustang and a Silver Jag. Steve wanted her to get the Jag."

"I would've picked the Mustang," he smiled.

"I probably would have too. I think that's what her mom wanted her to get. She was out here last summer, you know?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "No, I haven't talked to any of you guys in a while."

"Ma ma ma ma," CJ babbled.

Maggie looked back at him via the rearview mirror. "I hear you back there sweetie."

"You think Julie purposely picked that car to prove a point?" Mike asked, seconds later.

"That she's an independent woman who can make her own decisions," Maggie guessed. "You know it's a limited edition? Hers is one of only 263 made."

"Not a bad choice then. What about the Jag and Mustang?"

"Too ordinary I guess."

Mike noticed the yellow "do not cross" police tape spread outside of the main entry of Science Frontiers. He wondered how Ham managed to make it in there and get the disks for Julie. Perhaps the building was void of cops yesterday, just like it was now.

He reached for the drivers side handle of Julie's 1987 Limited Edition Red Camaro Sport Coupe, after unlocking the door, and slipped inside, slowly. He studied the sleek leather interior, matching red like the exterior of the car. Mike placed the key in the ignition, starting the engine, revving it up for good measure. He caught a disapproving glance from Maggie as she drove away.

Mike reached out and pushed play on the CD player. The Bose Sound System greeted him with a husky male singing…

Sleight of hand and twist of fate

On a bed of nails she makes me wait

And I wait without you

With or without you

With or without you

He chuckled, pushing the eject button, on the disc player. He pulled the cd out to read the album title… U2: The Joshua Tree. He grinned, putting the cd back in to continue the song, but it reset to track one…

I wanna run, I want to hide

I wanna tear down the walls

That hold me inside

I wanna reach out

And touch the flame

Where the streets have no name

I want to feel, sunlight on my face

I see the dust cloud disappear

Without a trace

I want to take shelter

From the poison rain

Where the streets have no name

Mike wasn't sure if he liked this song as much or the other. He pushed the skip button two times, landing back on track three… He imagined Juliet Parrish would have been singing it as she'd driven up in her hot red sports car to meet him the other day. He knew how she liked to sing in the car, and he was one of the few people who actually knew how good she could sing. The music continued on…

See the stone set in your eyes

See the thorn twist in your side

I wait for you…


	23. Accusations

**22 Accusations**

Lunch consisted of a small glob of red jello. Not long after eating it, Julie threw up, just like she had breakfast. She now lay on her side. With the help of her mother, Julie brushed her teeth over the small plastic basin. It was the first time in days.

But her mouth wasn't the only area of her body that was suffering from a case of the nasties. Julie felt yucky all over, having been here in this place for four days… and no shower. There was still some blood caked on her chest. She knew it was there because of the way it itched. After a while, the nurses came and cleaned her wound. This was the first time Julie got a good look at it herself. Feelings of sadness and anger came over her as the nurse poured a yellow cleaning solution on. She watched it bubble and fizz. Then, the female nurse rinsed it with a solution of distilled water. It was Julie's right breast that was affected. A vertical scar about four inches in length ran on the left side of her nipple. Studying it, Julie began to wonder if the surgeons made the absolute best cut possible. She wondered how soon she would be able to wear a bra, or how long it would take to heal.

Julie couldn't bring herself up into a sitting position or lift her bottom off of the bed very much for the sponge bath the nurses attempted to give her, but she knew just having her underarms and the wound itself cleansed would be a major improvement over the way she felt and smelled. Tomorrow they promised to try and give her a shower. Julie knew it meant getting up into a sitting position, and that meant more pain. She also knew the sooner she could sit up, the sooner her body would recommence to more normal functioning.

Today's ordeals of head elevation, trying to eat two so-called meals, and getting the cleansing she needed took its toll, and Julie drifted off to sleep around 1 p.m. It wasn't long after when Mike showed up to check on her.

Connie sat in her rocker, flipping through a Good Housekeeping magazine picked up in the lobby earlier. Mike reached down and touched Julie's right arm. He didn't want to wake her. She looked so peaceful lying there.

"Julie," he said softly.

"Must you?" Connie set down her book and stood up. "She's had a busy morning."

"She has more color." He was pleased. He gave her right hand a gentle squeeze, and dug in his pocket for the set of keys to the car he'd parked in her garage earlier. "Has Maitland been by here yet?"

"No, he's at work," Connie replied.

"I really need to talk to him. Is there anyway you could get him a message for him to call me at work later?"

"Why don't you call him yourself?"

"I don't have the number for his employer."

"Try the Yellow Pages," she said sarcastically.

Mike turned around, and handed her the keys. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Mr. Donovan. Why would there be anything wrong?"

"Mmm-ike."

He heard Julie's soft voice behind him and turned around to look at her.

"Hey, sweetheart. I got the car for you."

Julie cleared her throat. "Thanks."

"How you feelin'?"

"Like I was tor—tured," she forced a smile. "How…ahhhhhr….. you."

"You feel like talking?"

"No, she doesn't." Connie shoved the keys into her purse and set the periodical aside.

Mike made a face at Julie, showing his displeasure with her mom's behavior. Julie mouthed the words, 'I know.'

"Mom, … why don't…." she drew a breath, ." you go for a walk."

Connie shot to her feet and gave her daughter one of the meanest looks she'd ever seen. "Fine. I'll be back in twenty minutes. When I get back here he'd better be gone!"

Mike waited until she was out of range, before he said anything. "What'd I do?"

"Oh, Mike, it's okay. She just hates you."

"I see."

"I wish I c-could," she coughed a little bringing up some yellow stuff in the pink tray before finishing her sentence. "Sh-hip her back to New York."

"Would that be in a body bag?" he quipped.

Julie giggled reaching out and lightly punching his arm. "Nnnnn-no."

"Got a laugh from you."

The cost of a laugh was sharp pain to the chest. Julie strained even more so to get her next sentence out. "Any n-nnnnnnews?"

"Yeah, Maggie sends her apologies about not visiting yet. She's coming by after Chris gets off work."

"You kn-now wh—what I mmmmmmmeaaant."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I do, but I don't want to upset you anymore."

"Th-at hhhelps."

"I have some questions for you, Julie. I mean you want answers, and the whole reason why we're here is because I chose to interview Pico first when I should've talked to you instead. I screwed up."

"Yyy-you didn't know."

He wasn't sure if he wanted her sympathy. "I'm not so sure he wouldn't have done something anyway. The guy had it in for you."

"Has…" she corrected. "He's still ouuut th-there?"

Mike shrugged his shoulders, at least pretending he didn't know the truth. "Maitland said something interesting night before last. A little detail you forgot to mention on Friday?."

Julie thought and came up with nothing. Whatever it was, Mike seemed angry with her about it. "Wh-what?"

"Pico approached you at work and started accusing you of some stuff," he watched her expression carefully. "Any of that ring a bell, Julie?"

She started coughing again and reached for the pink tray, her mind filled with a memory about a parking garage and a crazy man who approached her. She thought of the gun she'd carried the other day.

"Wh-what happened to mmmy gun?"

"That's right. You pulled the gun on him that day, didn't you?"

"Diiih..dd…. the p-police take it?""

"Maitland didn't say you called the police."

"I mmeant S-sat-ur-ddday."

Mike wondered if she was purposely trying to change the subject or if she just couldn't remember. He decided to try again.

"Tell me about this incident where he cornered you in a parking garage. Do you remember what he said?"

He pulled a notepad and pencil from his jacket and Julie realized he was taking notes for a report.

"I rrr-ruined his career. He cc-called me a bitch." She cried, realizing part of the motive was something she didn't care for Mike to report on. "H-he waas up-upset be—ccause of th-the contract."

Mike reached for a Kleenex and handed it to her.

"Is everything okay?" the observatory nurse who had been watching came in, concerned about Julie's sudden anxiety.

Julie nodded, wanting to get this over with. She was fatigued and uncomfortable. She waited for the nurse to go back to his post before speaking again. "I'm s-sorry I didn't sss….ay it Friday. I was up—upset too."

"I know," he patted her arm. "And I know I can't report about the contract. Problem is my assignment editor seems to think this is a big story and I'm trying not to let on I know more than I do. He implied I might interview someone close to you, who might have more insight into the situation. I thought of Maitland."

"Wh…yy?" Julie wondered how Maitland might be introduced to the viewing audience of the evening news

"Maybe he can help me pull off the bluff. I don't know what the police are going to find though. I mean another station could pick this story up for ratings, try to get it from a different angle."

"Y-you covered it yesterday?" She wondered what, if any other information he had been able to gather.

"Yeah, we did a report on Pico's employment history. It seems he embezzled over a hundred thousand from this company called Biogenics. You know it?"

Julie nodded. "Any….thing elllse?"

"The guy who runs it, Andrew Davies caught him stealing some chemical they were using to sedate their lab animals. They thought he was conducting some type of experiments in his own home."

"Zylazin?" she gasped.

He watched her reach for her water and gave it to her, then took it back, sitting it on the table.

"Th-there was a news-paper article a wh-while back."

"You have any idea about his experiments?"

"He ww-worked with livestock for the FDA before h-he came to Sssci-"

"Science Frontiers?" he said, jotting the information down.

After shoving the pad and pencil in his pocket, Mike bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for helping me with this. I'm sorry I disturbed your nap."

Julie smiled thinking about the smell of his cologne… that Donovan smell she remembered. "W-w-elcome. Ahhhh-re you c-calling Steve?"

"I'd like to."

"H-hhand me th-the ph—phone.."

"Oh, you don't have to," he started to say but she kept pointing at it.

"Make sense, if I ask… fffffor h-him."

Mike held the receiver up to her ear as she dialed the number. "This is Dr P-Parrish. C-c-can I t-t-alk to Dr. M-mmait…land?" Julie rolled her eyes at the expected surprise of hearing her voice and asking her how she was. "I'm fff-fine," she lied. "Long story. Pp-put Maitland on."

After a few seconds of sappy elevator music, Julie heard Steve's voice.

"St-Steve."…. "I'm g-great. H—hold on." She nodded at Mike who took the phone from her.

"Hey, Maitland I have a huge favor to ask you," Mike said. "She seems better." He gave Julie a wink. "I need your help stalling my editor at WKKG. Could you sit down and do an interview tonight about Julie?... Umm as a close friend who could give an update on her condition…. Yeah I realize you can't leave until five. Why don't I see if I can do some negotiating? Maybe we can get a story for the late show instead?... Be at the studio for seven…. Thanks… Bye."

He hung up the phone, putting it back on the tray table. Then he bent down and gave Julie a peck on the forehead. "I'll come up and check on you later, missy."

"K-keep it up, aaaand I may not let you leave."

"What?"

She said nothing, just looked up at him blushing.

"Oh," he said, suddenly realizing maybe two kisses might raise her suspicion. "I probably shouldn't do that. Sorry."

"Wh-why nnnnnno-t?"

"Still here, Mr. Donovan?" Connie came back in the room looking just as agitated as earlier.

"I was just on my way out."

Julie noticed the clock the observatory room wall. It had not been a full twenty minutes since Connie left. "S-sseee yy-ou later, h-honey," she told Mike.

"Bye, Julie," he said, slipping on his jacket.

Connie didn't return to her seat when Mike was gone. "You shouldn't let him do that, Julie. He might get the wrong impression?"

"Wh-what's th-that?"

"You still care for him."

"He's a ggg-good guy, Mom."

"Who's too old for you."

Julie thought about it. She didn't have the strength now to make the comment that came to her mind, something about Mike not coming here to try to get in bed with her. She knew him better. She knew him as a compassionate friend who could and would hold back any personal feelings he may or may not still have because he knew she needed his help.


	24. Stupid Journalist, Dumb Questions

**23 Stupid Journalist, Dumb Questions**

After putting in his eight hours at work, Steve drove straight to WKKG. A pretty young intern named Jaycee seated him in the green room where he waited a good twenty minutes before Mike came. Steve had almost given up, having to wait for the 5:30 broadcast of the evening news to end. He thought this whole thing was a waste of precious time that he could be spending at the hospital with Julie. Visiting time would end in two hours, and he hadn't been able to see her all day. He was also eager to get home and check on the experiments Mike asked him to conduct. It seemed this newsman was full of all kinds of requests.

"I'm sorry you had to wait," Mike pushed the swinging door open. He pulled up a short ottoman and sat across from the blond male. "I'm working on a list of questions. I thought you might like to go over them before we go on set." He handed over a neatly typed paper.

"Is this live?"

"No. It's for the late show."

"I'll have to set my VCR then. Maybe Julie would want to see it later." Steve glanced down at the paper and shot Mike a look. "Do you want me to say that she's my ex-finacee?"

"That's probably not necessary. Maybe more like a close friend who's known her for a while. Have you ever worn a mic before?" He reached in his pant pocket and pulled out the lapel mic with its black wire.

"I've given interviews." Steve took it from him, clipping it on his shirt collar. It dawned on him that maybe white wasn't the best choice for a shirt today, but then again, Mike hadn't called early enough to give him that opportunity. "Too bad they don't come in lighter colors."

"Right," Mike agreed. "You want some coffee?"

"No, I want to hurry up and get this done and over with so I can go see Julie."

"Can you spare ten minutes to read that over and think about what you want to say? I'm going to go prep. Jaycee will bring you out when we're ready."

"Sure," Steve lied.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed before Jaycee came to get him and by this time Steve felt a tension headache coming on. He'd read the questions, over and over, jotted some notes, becoming even more convinced that Donovan was wasting his time.

"You look nervous," Mike said, sitting across from him in Studio D.

Steve said nothing, knowing Mike was just trying to get him to relax. The production assistant clicked on a set light which glared in Steve's contacts. He wondered how Mike could work under such conditions. Steve looked around, taking in his surroundings. There were three cameras on set. Camera A was aimed at Mike. Camera B was in the middle to get most of the two person shots, and Camera C was aimed at Steve. He glanced down at his watch seeing that it was now 6:17 p.m. The trio of photogs took their position behind each lens as Steve felt the beads of sweat beginning to gather on his forehead.

The production assistant came and took the sheet of questions from Steve which only added to his irritation.

"Try to look at me, not at the camera," Mike instructed.

That would rule out looking at a sheet of paper, Steve realized.

"On three," one of the camera guys shouted. "Three… Two… One…."

Mike looked at camera A. "Good evening. Tonight I sit with Dr. Steve Maitland, a personal friend of Dr. Juliet Parrish who was shot on Saturday as we tried to gather files on her research projects at Science Frontiers. Tonight Julie remains in ICU, and we want to wish her a speedy recovery." He turned to Steve. "Can you tell us about her condition, what they've been able to do for her so far?"

Steve drew a breath, trying to relax his own nerves. "On Saturday I was called down to the hospital. Julie's family lives on the East Coast." He'd deliberately said that instead of New York or Manhattan, wanting to protect Connie's privacy. "Julie took a hit to the right lung and they did surgery to recover the bullet. She's had a collapsed lung and was on life support for the remainder of Saturday afternoon and through Sunday evening. She's had a lot of trouble breathing on her own, having developed a pretty stubborn form of pneumonia which they are treating with antibiotics. She's out of her coma now, off the vent and breathing on her own, but it's still touch and go."

"Do you have any insight into who shot her and why?"

"As you've probably already stated, that bullet was fired by Dr. William Pico whom Julie's had problems with in the past. Julie became the the top researcher at Science Frontiers several years ago because of her extensive knowledge of the red dust and how it operates. Science Frontiers not only to manufactured the red dust and an antidote for Visitor turncoats, but they researched its effect on the planet, continuing to try to improve the formula. Essentially, Julie took Pico's spot among Bates' favorites and Pico lost his."

"So you think he was motivated by jealousy?" Mike asked. "Did he ever threaten her when they worked together?"

"I wouldn't call them threats, no,". Supposedly you were with her at the time.. You should know, he thought. "He just gave her a hard time, telling her things like she wasn't as smart as Bates thought she was. That she was too young and her skills were too immature, that she was going to slip up and Bates would fire her."

"Did she ever go report the harassment to Bates?"

"Not that I'm aware of. But you knew her at the time. She was with the resistance. Maybe she confided in someone there."

"Were there any other instances since she ended her work with Science Frontiers in late 84? With Dr. Pico, I mean?"

"Not that I am aware of," he lied, wondering if Mike really wanted him to answer the question truthfully.

The whole interview ended up being one tense moment after another, and Steve didn't get out of WKKG until five after 7. He decided he'd thank Mike personally for keeping him so late another time.

* * *

"How is she?"

Connie glanced over at Steve who slipped in the room beside her. "So far so good. What kept you?"

"Donovan. I get there at 5:30 and he's out on a report. I had to wait for him for like forty minutes, and then he has the nerve to come tell me he has to prep for the interview."

"Why didn't he just wait until we were through here if it's for the late show?"

"I don't know."

Steve sauntered off into Julie's room, "Hey bright eyes, I see you're feeling better."

"Hi, Steve, H-how'd it go?"

Steve made a face. "Pointless. He's asking me a bunch of dumb questions he should know the answer to."

"Wh-what?"

"How Dr. Pico treated you when you worked at Science Frontiers. I don't know, I think maybe he thinks you've talked to me a lot about things. Did you ever tell him about it when you were… with him?"

"T-too much go—ing on then," she sighed. It was her first time alone with Steve since she'd woke up yesterday, and she didn't feel like arguing.

"I'm sorry," he said, touching her arm. "I shouldn't have said it like that." He pulled the rocking chair closer to her bed and sat. He took her hand in his own, clenching her fist around his and kissed it. "Forgive me?"

Julie stared at him, seeing the pained expression on his face. She didn't say anything.

. "I don't know what I would have done if you died. I love you, and I want to take care of you when this is all through. You can come stay with me for a while. You'll need time to get your strength back. Your mom said she'd stay too."

"I d-don't know wh-hen," she mumbled, "I will go ho—me."

"Soon, I hope."

She closed her eyes, wishing to feel better, to be better. She wanted to be in her own home, and no one else's.

"You tired, baby?"

Julie nodded. Steve noticed the time. It was five til eight. He'd sit here the next five minutes even if she fell asleep. He just wanted to be near her and see her breathing. He thought of the flowers he'd send her once they moved her to a regular room. He'd show her and everyone else how much he loved her, and nothing could ever change that.


	25. Bathing Beauty

**24 Bathing Beauty**

Wednesday morning arrived too early for Julie. Today, her nurses wanted not only to get her up into a sitting position, but give her the shower she so desperately needed.

A heavyset blonde by the name of Tiffany stood on one side of Julie's bed, and nurse Ann was on the other. Julie cried out in pain as they slowly pulled her up into an erect position.

"Nooo," she protested, thinking it was too much too soon for her.

"We've got to do this, hon," Ann said, putting her arms around Julie's torso for a hug and support. She didn't press to closely to Julie's injury, not wanting to cause her any more pain than necessary.

With her head on Ann's shoulder, teary eyed Julie watched Connie who sat in the rocker looking back at her.

Julie closed her eyes, fatigued. They were going to put her through this ordeal whether she wanted or not. She wondered how they planned to get her off the bed into the wheelchair beside it. Neither of these women would be able to lift fifty pounds let alone an even 100… or less. Julie was sure she lost weight these past few days. It was no wonder with the diet she was on, or lack there of.

Ann backed away and then put her arm around Julie's right shoulder.

"C'mon, lift your arm up, sweetie."

Julie did as she was told, bracing herself on the woman. The other nurse helped her turn and sit on the bed sideways.

Julie gasped and winced, feeling the burning of her stitches again. Nurse Tifanny forced her up into a standing position, with her toes touching the icy cold TICU floor. Ann did the same. Julie cried out again, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Almost here," Tifanny said, helping her lower herself into the chair. Julie found it wasn't just the upper part of her body that felt weak, but her legs as well. She knew she wouldn't be able to stand on her own for a while… maybe days or even weeks. So even if the pneumonia went away entirely, it would be weeks or even months before she could get back to work. She wondered if Steve would be able to finish their project by himself.

The nurses took Julie away down the hall to a bathroom where they sat her on a stool in the shower, undressed and began to wash her thoroughly. Too weak to support herself, Julie clung tightly to Tifanny while Ann used the handheld sprayer. For Julie, being bathed by two grown women who were strangers felt degrading, but she knew it was necessary. It would get rid of the odor of caked on blood. It would get rid of anything foul that had been left from her surgeries.

"What kind of shampoo do you use at home, hon?" Ann poured a capful of Finesse into her own palm, lathering it onto Julie's scalp.

"S-salon," Julie shivered. They'd shut the water off and she had nothing to keep her naked body warm "Reddick."

The shampoo Julie normally used had a detangler in it. She tried to catch a glimpse of the complimentary shampoo bottle sitting on the shower ledge above her head. I t wasn't anything she recognized,

"Do you h-have a p—ick?"

"No, just a comb, sugar," Tiffany smiled at her. "Don't worry, we'll be gentle."

I spend two years growing out my hair and now this. Julie knew if they ever did get through it all she would want to have it braided by her mother. That way if it couldn't be washed for a few days, the at least it wouldn't tangle.

After the shampooing, and rinsing, Ann lathered a handful of conditioner onto Julie's head.

"You want to try something different for breakfast today?" Ann asked.

"M-maybe, br-oth."

Ann nodded, shutting the water off. "I think we were a little too ambitious yesterday, huh. Gotta start slow."

The two ladies helped Julie stand to her feet. Ann reached out and wrapped a towel around her, which was just about as thin and small as a cheap motel bath towel. Julie was eager to get back into the bed where she would be warm again.

Once Ann thought she was dry enough, she slipped Julie's towel off and put a hospital gown on her backwards, for easy access to clean the drainage from the incision later. She gave Julie a dry towel to drape over the front of her. But it wasn't enough to keep the chill away as they wheeled her back to her room.

Once they'd put her back in bed, they checked her vitals again, to find Julie's oxygen level dropped.

Ann reached for the plastic blue face mask which hung above the headboard. "We're going to put this on you for a while so you can breathe better."

"Is something wrong?" Connie got up from her chair and came over to them.

"Just a little too much activity. She needs some air, Momma," Tiffany said, adjusting the o2 levels.

Julie reached up making a motion towards her wet hair, hoping the nurses weren't about to let it dry in a tangled, matted mess. Unable to speak, she glanced at her mother.

"Do we have a brush?" Connie asked.

"I'll get one." Ann headed towards the doorway and exited out into the hall.

Pulling away her mask for a brief spell Julie said, "C-can you guys get some th-things from home?"

"Sure, honey." Connie reached for the mask and helped her put it back on.

* * *

Mike tried Tyler's number several times, first thing in the morning to question Tyler about Pico's corpse whereabouts, but got no answer. Then he called Steve Maitland's number, figuring he'd just missed him. Maitland would have taken Julie's mother back to the hospital, and then gone on to work. Mike wanted the chance to ask about the tests Steve was doing at home, or if he learned anything new. With working opposite schedules, there was probably no chance of catching him at the hospital later either. Perhaps tonight, after visiting hours, Steve would be willing to meet him for a drink at Kelly's Pub.

Picking up the phone again, Mike dialed another number and asked to speak with his own son. He knew the call was long overdue.

"Yeah?" Sean came on sounding distracted.

"Hey there kiddo. I just wanted to apologize about Saturday. I'm planning on coming up tomorrow around noon. Maybe we can go grab some pizza."

Mike knew if Sean kept his behavior in check, he could get a pass to leave the facility for a few hours. There was a Pizza Hut less than a mile away from the place where they so often went.

"What happened Saturday?" Sean asked.

"It's a long story."

"I've seen the news, Dad."

Mike nodded as if his son were there to see the response. "Julie needed my help. I know I should have called you and I'm sorry."

"No you're not," Sean accused. "If you wanted to see me you would have been here."

Squinting, Mike shifted the phone to his other ear. "You know that's not true Sean."

"Hey, I have to go now. I'm afraid I'm just too busy to talk to you, DAD."

The phone clicked in Mikes ear. He put the phone down with a sigh, not knowing what or if anything more could be done for Sean. He reached for the box Ham Tyler gave him yesterday, thinking maybe if Julie was out of the ICU, he could give it to her.

* * *

Having been moved from the fourth floor down to the third, into a regular room, around 10 AM Julie was sleeping in her bed. All the morning's activities caught up to and exhausted her. The broth she'd consumed an hour ago went where it was supposed to. Her hair was now parted in the middle and neatly twisted into two braids, one on each side. Connie recommended the style so it wouldn't get caught up under her if she had difficulty turning her head.

Having been redirected by Ann, Mike found Julie's new room. There was a t.v. anchored to the wall with a VCR beneath it. He could now get her a tape if she wanted to watch the interviews he'd done with Pico and Steven.

He held the shoebox in his hands, not knowing if he was going to leave it. Connie sat nearby in a powder blue chair.

"What's that?"

"A present for Julie," he said. "She looks… different."

"She's tired. They got her up for a shower this morning."

He set the box down on the shelf under the t.v., admiring the way Julie's hair was done. It made her look younger, almost like a child. He started towards the edge of her bed.

"I'd rather you didn't wake her up now," her mother said.

"Yeah, you're probably right," He turned towards Connie. "I'd like to meet with Steve tonight. I have some things I need to ask him about. He'll know what—"

"More news, Mr. Donovan?"

"No, it's not for the news. Would you ask him to give me a call and if he can meet me after he takes you home? There's this little Pub called Kelly's. It's where I met with Julie the other night. She can tell him how to get there."

"Well I hope you don't keep him waiting like you did yesterday."

"I couldn't help it," he said. "Tell him if he'll meet me around 9 or 9:30, I'll be there. And tell Julie I'll come back and see her early tomorrow. I've got to go visit my son later tomorrow, before work."

"You don't have custody of your son?"

"I do. He's just at boarding school."

"Problem child?"

"Kind of," he answered, unwilling to give up any more information. He decided not to leave the box after all. He wanted to give it to Julie in person.

He bent down and kissed Julie's cheek, turned and told Connie a "bye," and then left for the day.


	26. Red Roses for Juliet

**25 Red Roses for Juliet**

Julie slept through lunch, not waking up until almost three in the afternoon. A bright red bouquet of red roses mingled with baby's breath caught her attention. It was sitting in the window sil next to a few greeting cards which were moved down from her TICU room earlier.

"Aren't they gorgeous?" Connie noticed her eyeing the flowers.

"S-steve?"

"Oh honey he's going to be here in a couple hours. You can thank him then."

Thank him? Julie mused. "Th-this, g-getting." She stopped unable to finish the rest of the sentence. She was going to say ridiculous.

"What, honey?" Connie came over and put her right hand on Julie's. "Your friend Donovan hasn't sent anything. Steve still loves you. Don't you forget."

Julie noticed the time and she wondered if Mike came by to see her. "M-mike?"

"I sent him away earlier. You were sleeping. He said he'd come back tomorrow."

It bothered Julie she missed him coming to visit her, and she felt sorry for him, having wasted the drive. What bothered her more was her mother's insisting she not forget how Steve felt. Who cared how he felt? What about how she felt. She wanted to say something.

"Mom," she paused, trying to find the right words, preferably ones that would be easy to say. "I d-don't," she swallowed.

Connie reached for a glass of water in which the ice cubes melted hours ago. She gave it to Julie who pushed her hand away.

"I don't love… Ss..steve."

Sitting the cup back down on the tray Connie said, "Nonsense, Julie. I don't believe you."

"I don't…care!"

Connie glared at her. "What?"

Julie started to choke and tried to speak at the same time. "I l-left him three m-mmm-onths….a-a-go." She tried to pull herself up to get out what was catching in the back of her throat. Connie reached for the pink tray. Julie looked down, spitting the stuff out. It was still yellow mixed with red. She cried.

"Honey, relax!" When Connie was convinced Julie's hacking spell was over, she put the plastic container back on the bedside tray.

There was a rap on the doorway. Julie saw Maggie Blodgett standing there singing, "Knock knock."

"Mmm-aggie," Julie was pleased to see her.

Connie reached over and took Julie's cup. "I'm going to get you some water, honey. I'll let you talk to your friend."

"Th-thanks."

Maggie stepped in and came over to Julie. She carried a brown teddy bear identical to the one CJ referred to as a car the other day. "CJ and I bought you something." She held it out to Julie who took it.

"Mr. Bo- Bo," Julie giggled, taking the bear with her right hand, she reached for a Kleenex with her left and dabbed her eyes.

Maggie noticed the flowers. "Wow, Julie, those are really beautiful."

"I w-want…"she paused, "to send them….baaaaack."

Maggie walked over and pulled a little card out of the flower bouquet and read it:

My Sweet Juliet… The beauty of these roses cannot match the beauty and depth of the love I feel for you. You are always in my heart!... xoxo 4-ever… Steven

She tucked the card back inside the flowers and came back over to the bed. Her expression reflected disappointment.

"Wh-at… did he….wri..te?"

Maggie went back after the card and gave it to her friend. Julie stared at it for about 10 seconds before handing it back.

"What a jerk." Maggie tucked the card back inside the flowers

"H-he means it."

"I'm sure he does."

"H-he st-ill wants to marry me."

"I know."

Julie put her hands to her face, wiping the tears away. "I c-can't…d-deal with this… now."

"I know."

With a fresh plastic cup full of ice water, Connie returned to Julie's bedside. "All right, hon. Here you go." She handed over the cup. "Want me to raise the bed up more?"

"Nnnnn-o." Julie wasn't even sure why her mom would offer to do that. She knew it was up to the nurses to decide how far she could go. For now, she was content to be sitting in a semi erect position in which she could relax and go back to sleep if she wanted to, or try to converse with the people who came to see her.

With another rap on the doorpost, a 3rd floor nurse named Barbara came to see Juie, pulling a tray of syringes behind her.

"It's good you got some rest, doll. The doctor has ordered more tests." She studied Julie's expression, noticing how glassy her eyes were. "Are you in pain, honey? We put some medicine in your I.V. about an hour ago."

Julie shook her head, letting her right arm hang off the side of the bed. This would be the third series of blood tests they were running on her today. She winced, feeling the needle stick into an already over drawn from vein. Not getting any blood, the nurse pulled the needle out and jabbed her again.

"Much more of this, and we'll have to start poking you in the leg.."

Julie frowned. She didn't like the idea of it either.

"That IV's been in her left arm since Saturday," Maggie noted. "It should probably be moved."

"Are you a nurse?" Barbara asked.

"Yes," Maggie answered.

"I'll talk to Dr. Holland about moving it then," she said, releasing the rubber band she'd tied around Julie's upper arm so the nine tubes would fill with blood. "Ms. Parrish, you will probably want to eat something after this so you can build up you hemoglobin. Doctor wants to do another set of tests this evening."

"What's on the menu tonight? Connie hoped Julie would be a little braver in her next session of picking out a meal.

"Broth." Julie thought of how it might soothe her scratchy throat.

The nurse looked down at her smiling as she gave each tube of blood a gentle shake between her thumb and forefinger. "They said you are scared to eat after what happened yesterday. But you need to try."

"See," Connie added.

"T-tomorrow?"

Putting the needle in an orange plastic box with the label "hazardous waste on it," the nurse continued to clean up her cart. "Tomorrow's going to be a busy day for you. Dr. Holland wants us to get you on your feet again. You'll start physical therapy."

Julie envisioned herself, trying to stand and hold onto a walker, like a little old lady. She could only imagine how painful it would be, and the strength she needed to accomplish that was non existent.

"Wow," Connie grinned, her blue eyes brimming with tears. "And to think a few days ago I had to tell you goodbye because we thought…" she gasped. "I'm so happy for you, honey."

"This is, wonderful news," Maggie agreed. "You'll get there. And we'll all be here to help."

"Now, are you going to try to something, sugar?" the nurse asked.

"I g-guess ss—o."

Maggie gave her a pat on the arm. "I have to go back to work now. Try not to worry, hon."

"O..kay."

* * *

Buried in an abandoned field near Diamond Bar, California, Dr. William Pico's corpse began to rot and stink. Buzzards circled overhead.

Discovered by a young man who had been hunting in the area, the local police were called in. Dan Browning, a young cadet fresh out of training, took snapshots of the tire impressions left in the sandy dirt only yards away from the burial site.

Officer Nick Collins bent down near the corpse, using a small tool to smooth back the dirt away from Pico's face. Collins put a hand over his own nose and mouth, shielding them from the stench.

"I think it's the guy the LAPD is looking for," he said.

"Who shot the resistance leader?" Browning guessed.

Collins nodded, gradually getting up. "I'll call the coroner. You get forensics down here to get impressions of those tracks."

Pushing the small polaroid back into its black protective case, Browning got up and moved away from the tire marks. "Somebody sure wanted him dead."

"You think?" Collins muttered. He didn't like his partner and wasn't afraid to show it. He hoped the young punk would screw up and be transferred soon.

Collins reached into his squad car and pulled out the CB out. "This is Nick. We need the coroner at Trigger and Castle Rock Lanes. We've got a male, Caucasian, early seventies."

Browning laid a blue tarp over Pico's body, giving him a protective covering until the crew could get there. He then called for forensics who would comb the area for all traces of foul play.


	27. Gestures that Start Wars

**26 Gestures That Start Wars**

Connie left the bedside of her sleeping daughter at 5:20 pm that evening. She wanted to catch Steve in the hall before he came to Julie's room. She waited in an upholstered mauve chair near the elevator, watching anxiously each time the 3rd floor number lit up. Several people got off and on with each stop, but it wasn't until 5:33 when Steve arrived.

"How is she?" he asked, seeing Connie sitting there in the chair.

"Sleeping. I thought maybe we could go grab dinner in the cafeteria before she wakes up."

"Something wrong?" He joined her in the elevator and pressed the G button for the ground floor.

"I'll tell you about it when we eat. I'm starved. How about you?"

The elevator made a couple more stops along the way down, and then finally, after another ten minutes, Connie and Steve were able to exit into the main lobby. The cafeteria was down a long corridor, just on the other side of admissions.

Steve got in a buffet line and insisted on paying for Connie's meal. She took a small bowl of chicken noodle soup and a slice of peach pie. Steve chose a cup of coffee and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He was not very hungry at all.

"Mr. Donovan wants to meet with you." Connie placed her tray on a small table for two.

Steve pulled out her chair for her, and then seated himself.

"More questions?"

"He said it's not for the news. It seemed… I don't know… personal?"

"About Julie?"

"He wouldn't say. I imagine it would be, but I'm not sure." She took her food off the red tray and set it on top of a nearby garbage can. "I just wanted to tell you Julie's not herself today. If she says anything out of the ordinary, don't take it personally. She's been through a lot."

"What are you trying to say?" He studied her expression. "Did she get my flowers yet?"

"Yes, that's what the problem is, Steven. She's upset over the flowers."

He hesitated to ask why. He knew the reason being he was pushing the reconciliation issue again. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to upset her. You know I love her."

"I know you do, and hon there's nothing I want more than to see Julie well again, and you two work out your problems. But I think if you want to keep the peace between you and her, wait til after she's well and not on all these meds before you bring it up."

"I understand." He watched her mouth a spoonful of chicken and noodles.

"Are you going to meet with Donovan?

"I don't think so. I know what he wants and I don't have the answers he's looking for now. I'll ask him to meet me tomorrow evening, maybe then I'll have some clues."

When Connie and Steve arrived in Julie's room almost twenty minutes later, they found her still sound asleep. The nurses told them a heavy dose of morphine given earlier made her this way, and it was just best to let her rest. Her body needed it. She didn't' wake up before visiting hours were over.

* * *

Early the next morning, Julie sat in her bed, still angry about the flowers Steven had sent, and his and her mother's recent encouraging her to get back together with him because he still cared.

Julie looked up to see Mike Donovan standing in her doorway, holding a shoebox and asked, "You're nnn-not g-going to propose to mmm—ee are you?"

Mike looked down at the box, confused. He decided to humor her. "What if I was?"

"I'd th-throw you out of th-this room on your aaaaasss."

"Okay, maybe I won't then." He came closer to her. "Look, if you're not in a good mood I can come back tomorrow. I've got to go see Sean today. I thought you might like to have this."

He set the box down on her tray table.

"What- isssss?"

"It's from Ham actually. I was thinking of getting you something more personal, but I see Maitland already beat me to it." He nodded over at the flowers.

Julie wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic, or just trying to add to her misery. She also wondered what kind of present Ham would send, and why he would choose not to deliver it in person.

"Sorry, bad joke," Mike forced a smile.

Studying the box, Julie saw it indicated a pair of mans Nike size 12. "Shoes?"

"No," Mike took away the lid and held the container out to her, revealing its contents. Julie's eyes grew bigger.

"Mmyyyyy disks."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Ham went back and got them for you."

Julie moved her hand to wipe the tears away as they came. She thought about the sacrifices people were making on her behalf, and was grateful. She also thought about her rude comments to Mike a moment ago.

"Mmmike… I'm sorry."

Putting the box aside, he sat on the edge of her bed, reached down and wiped a tear from her eye with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

She touched his hand, speaking slowly and deliberately, knowing the words would come easier if she tried to take a breath between each one.

"Whats… going… on with I."

"It's personal, Julie. I understand."

"N-no you don't."

"Do I need to?"

She nodded her head against the pillow. "I know I t-told you not to aaask. But it's okay, now."

"Does this mean you've decided to become Mrs. Maitland after all?"

"Oh… god…..nnnnnnnooo."

"What then?"

Moving her hands to her face again, she cried. "I c-can't deal with him or my mom now."

Patiently he waited, giving her the time she needed to get out what was bothering her.

"She….wants me t-to… go live with him, after I get out of here… to recover. I w-won't.."

"Are they going to let you out soon?" It was news to him.

"D-don't know yet. H-have to walk ffirst. Maybe in a few days or a week. Mmmmmaybe two."

Mike thought of the long flight of steps that led to Julie's second story beach apartment. He'd been there two days ago.

"Maggie and I can come look in on you if you want. I'll help you anyway I can."

"R-really?" she smiled.

He touched her cheek. "Really." He glanced over at the flowers again. "I can't say I blame him for trying though."

"You sh-should read the card," she said angrily.

"Julie?"

She pointed to the flowers. "It's okay."

He walked over to them, plucked out the card and read the message, trying not to laugh, though Julie saw him crack a grin.

"My Sweet Juliet," he snickered. "The beauty of these roses cannot match the beauty and depth of the love I feel for you. You are always in my heart. Love forever… Steven." He carefully tucked it back between a couple green stems, making it look as though at hadn't been disturbed. "That's probably some standard line he had to choose from. I would have written you something original."

"Donovan, y-you're a baaad, man" she giggled, starting to choke.

"You know what, I think I will send you something. Steve and your mother won't know what hit 'em."

"Really?"

"With your permission, of course."

"Of., c-course." Julie smiled back at him, wondering if what he was about to do would start a war. "You want me to pay for it? I have mm-mmoney."

"No, it's on me."

"You won't let me pay for my own f-flowers?"

"Mmm mmm." He glanced at his watch, seeing it was only an hour til visiting hours began at the Sean's residence. "I've gotta run. Try not to worry about things. Relax."

Juie pursed her lips into a frown.

"What?" he asked.

She pointed to her right cheek. "Y-you forgot."

He bent down and kissed one cheek and then the other. "Bye, my sweet Juliet," he said with a laugh and sauntered off.

With a good half hour to herself before Connie returned, Julie laid there and imagined what type of elaborate, but unintentional thing Mike Donovan would send to her her, conveying a message to both Steve and her mother that he still had feelings for her, although he probably didn't.

* * *

The number sprawled in Robin Maxwell's personal telephone book was not being answered. Five days passed since she would have normally spoken to Kyle Bates. She dialed the Los Angeles area code, followed by 555-1212 for information.

"What city please?" the operator came on.

"Los Angeles." Robin took her pen and prepared to write the number.

"Name?"

"Mungo Suarez."

With a click, an automated voice came on. "The number… 548-2152… can be reached by pressing 1. A 50 cent charge will be added to your bill. If you do not wish to accept this charge, hang up now. Thank you for calling AT&T."

Robin pressed the receiver button and dialed Mungo's number. But the phone just rang and rang and rang.

* * *

Having decided not to go to the hospital gift shop, Mike found a small locally owned one near the corner of 7th and San Pedro Avenues. He studied the selection of floral arrangements. Many were Holiday themed having to do with the upcoming St. Patrick's or Easter Holidays. There were big inverted balloons with stuffed bunnies in them. There were white vases with green died carnations, and little tea cups with the message "Get Well Soon" painted on them, with colors as bright as the flowers that were in them. He smiled thinking of what might be more meaningful to Julie. None of the things he saw seemed to fit the occasion.

"Can I help you sir?" A young woman with bright red punk style hair asked from behind the counter.

"I don't know." He glanced around the room again. "I'm trying to pick out something for my wife. It's our first wedding anniversary this week. I just want to show her how much I love her, what she means to me."

"What about a dozen roses?" It was the standard for centuries, and made a lot of money for her little shop too.

"No."

The girl stepped out of her cubical and went over to the romantic section of the store. Sprays of red and white roses, with babies breath filled the counters. She picked up a white teddy bear holding a red heart with the simple phrase "I love you" embroidered on its stomach.

Mike shook his head.

"Well, what does your wife like?"

"Hershey's. You got any candy?"

She pointed to a metal display in the corner of the store, near the counter. It held a collection of Valentines Day items which hadn't sold.

Mike followed her to the 75% off sign as the girl picked out a gift bag full of red and silver Hershey's kisses and an attached teddy bear dressed in a red Hersey Kiss costume. Mike smiled.

"It's only four dollars."

"It's perfect."

"Okay?" disappointment emanated from her tone as she took the bear and bag of chocolates to her counter and rang it.

"Do you guys deliver?" Mike asked, knowing he wouldn't have the chance to get back up to the hospital today.

"It's a minimum twenty dollar purchase."

"How bout I just give you the twenty dollars." He picked up the bag, glanced at the underside of it, and began to scratch off the red sticker which claimed 75% off. He didn't want to seem cheap. "I'd like to attach a little note card. You got one?"

The girl scrounged around beneath the cash register, retrieving a little 2x3 card with some romantic phrase on it.

"A blank one?" Mike said.

She nodded, bringing up another and handed it to him.

"Got a red pen?"

She handed it over. Mike began to write….

"You want it in the bag?"

"Tape it on, facing outward," he grinned back at her, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a $20 bill.

"Where do we send it?"

"Los Angeles Med Center, room 3559. ." He watched her reach for a roll of Scotch tape and stick it to the bag. "Oh, and could you have it sent for around 6'0clock this evening? That's when she's usually awake . Thank you." He knew not only would Julie be awake, but Maitland would be there visiting at that time.


	28. That Man, Donovan

**27 That Man, Donovan**

Officer Andrew Perkins reclined in his desk chair at the Los Angeles Police Department, relieved to know the location where William Pico was found. Unfortunately, Pico was murdered. Now it was time to find the responsible party and make another arrest. Unsatisfied with how the investigation was going so far, Perkins ordered the CSI team to make another trip back out to Pico's place for a second search of evidence…

A corner booth at Pizza Hut was where Mike found himself sitting across from Sean, later that morning. The 15-year-old stared down at the slice of pepperoni pizza on his plate. It was brought a half an hour ago and he had not taken a single bite.

"Sean, talk to me." Mike snapped his fingers in front of Sean's face causing him to blink.. "HEY!"

"I'm not hungry."

"Fine. What's the problem?"

"What do you care?"

"You're my son. I love you and I'm here for you."

"I shouldn't even be up here," Sean said. "You say you want us to be together and then you just stash me away like I'm some broken thing you can't fix."

"Do you think I want you here?" Mike asked. "I want you home with me, but you have to behave. You have to learn to control your anger. Then you can do what normal kids your age do, go to school, think about your future."

"I hate school."

"I know you do. Maybe it's something we can work on. But I have to know I can trust you. I have to go to work to pay the bills. I don't want you sneaking off or getting into trouble, or hurting people."

Memory revisited Sean about how he'd ended up back in the boarding school this time. It was because of the little bimbo from work his father brought home around Christmas. She'd gotten smart with Sean, tried to tell him to do something and he punched her. That's when his dad told him he was too violent to stay at home.

It wasn't the first time Sean's behavior got out of control during these past two years. It all started at school. He didn't feel the need to listen to directions or be under authority, when as far as he was concerned, all the teacher's were wusses and he had better things to do.

Sean was living the life of someone who manipulated others by fear and intimidation. He could also manipulate his father, when necessary. But he'd found not all things were maneuverable in his favor.

Sean's gaze fell again and Mike knew part of what he was thinking about. "Look at me, Sean.."

Mike waited until he had his attention again. "I want to make a deal with you."

"Yeah?"

"One month of good behavior, no screw ups and you can come home. We'll try to make it work."

The kid didn't answer right away.

"Okay?" his father asked.

"Okay." Sean pushed his plate away, seeing the waitress was coming back to leave the bill.

* * *

Hopeful Sean would stay true to his word, Mike returned him to the facility that day, certain if the boy really wanted to come home he would prove it.

Luck was not on Dr. Steve Maitland's side. After having an argument with Julie yesterday, even in the presence of her mother, he'd gone home feeling bad for what he thought would be a good gesture. Red roses were supposed to make women feel loved by their admirers. But Julie didn't want any part of being with him. He was kidding himself, thinking she would come out of her ailment wanting him to help her get back to normal. But the only thing he managed to do was make her angry again. He felt ashamed now, going back up to the hospital, knowing his love for her was a lost cause. Even worse, just before leaving work that afternoon, Donovan called Steve insisting they meet tonight at some bar named Kelly's. Steve knew Donovan still wanted information about the bacteria Julie was infected with.

When Steve arrived at Julie's room that evening, he was surprised the flowers he sent yesterday, the ones which caused the big upheaval, were still in their same spot. He thought she might have them thrown away, or removed from her sight. But for now, they remained.

He saw a walker near the window, and realized the nurses must have gotten her up today.

"How'd it go?" He was hesitant to get as close to her as he had these past few days.

"Mmm….sore."

"She got up though. She took a few steps," Connie glanced up from the afghan she was working on.

"A few? Well, it's a start," Steve said.

"And she had a real meal for lunch."

Feeling as though he would get nowhere with Julie as long as her mother kept interfering he said, "Connie, can I have a few minutes with her?

` The older woman gathered her things and went out of the room.

With her anger subsided now, Julie was just tired.

"I'm sorry for yesterday," he told her. "I'd like to learn to just be your friend, if you'll let me."

"Okay."

Connie returned to the room right away, following a female nurse who was carrying a red gift bag with hearts and an attached teddy bear dressed in a Hershey Kiss costume.

"The florist said to hand deliver it." The nurse handed it to Julie.

Julie stared down at the bag with Mike's note stapled to it. She chuckled to herself.

"A secret admirer?" Connie asked.

"Uh," Julie started to say. Her cheeks flushed as she thought about what Mike wrote. She looked in the bag, and saw a good amount, maybe hundreds of red and silver Hershey Kisses in there… all for her.

"Julie!" her mother snapped, stealing a glance of the message. "What's going on?"

Julie held the bag down, not knowing what to say. Maybe she would just lie and say she and Mike decided to give it another go, or maybe she would act like she didn't know he felt that way towards her.

"Donovan?" Steve glared at her. "Was he here today? Did he see the roses I sent you, and now he's mocking me?"

Julie thought about the similarities between how Steve ended his note and Mike chose to end his, as if it were deliberate. She snapped the note card off and held it in her right hand, out of sight from Steve.

"Oh no," he said angrily, "Why don't you leave it on there like you did mine so he can make an ass of himself in front of everyone who comes to see you."

"This is personal," Julie stammered. "Between me and Donovan. I don't owe you or anyone else an explanation!"

"Are you in love with that man, Julie?" her mother interrupted.

She drew a breath. "How the hell would I know? Apparently I'm not allowed to have feelings for anyone, but Steve!"

"You're sick, for Pete's sake! You shouldn't be thinking about seeing that man! "

"You're right, Mom. I am sick. I think I need to ask you two to leave for the evening."

"Juie, I'm sorry," Steve protested. "It just seems sudden."

"GOODBYE!" she screamed.

Offended at the whole situation, Connie was the first one to leave the room. Steve trailed after her. Julie read the card again.

…. My Juliet, my treasure…Inside this bag is a kiss for everyday we have been apart. Not a day has passed in which you haven't been in my heart. I'll love you always.

–Michael Sean Donovan.

She frowned, and stuck it inside the bag, and covered it with candy kisses where it would be hidden from view.


	29. Getting the Whole Story

**28 Getting the Whole Story**

The Crime Scene Investigation team assembled at Pico's house early Thursday evening, scouring the area for clues. Dressed in plastic protective garments Officer Tony Torrez sifted through a large trash bin near the garage while a female officer by the name of Lucy Whitney knelt on the ground nearby, picking through the various cow parts.

She picked up a partially decayed skull and placed it in a plastic container. Bodily fluids spilled down the side. She held her breath from the smell, penetrating through her protective mask.

"I can't believe someone would do this," she murmured.

"He was a sick bastard, that's for sure," Officer Torrez agreed, as he pulled on a tightly wound, blood-soaked rug, and hoisted it over the side of the dumpster.

It landed next to Whitney with a thud and she jumped, looking back. With a quick shake of the head, she reached for a garbage bag. Torrez helped her slide the rug in.

"I think that's human blood on there." He reached for a twist tie and sealed the bag.

"How can you tell?"

"I'm not exactly sure. It just looks different."

"Do you think these cattle parts will be of any use to our investigation?"

"Don't know. Perkins said to collect everything." He got in the dumpster again and finished emptying its contents, letting Whitney pack and seal them. He doubted the refrigerated storage unit back at the Police Department was big enough to take everything this place offered as evidence.

* * *

The crowd at Kelly's was boisterous tonight as an Irish band took part in folk songs. Mike Donovan watched the musicians play their, bodhran's, accordions, whistles, fiddles and bouzoukis. Some of the pub patrons formed a line dance and locked arm and arm, hopping around the room. Mike smiled. It reminded him of the motherland, back when he was a boy. His father, Patrick, took him there one Christmas to meet Granny Bridgette O'Donovan. That was before Eleanor and Patrick were divorced, back when the world seemed like a less complicated place for a young lad to grow up in.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Becky the waitress interrupted his thoughts. "How's your friend… Julie?" She poured him a beer, his usual Coors.

"You've watched the news?" He set a five dollar bill down on the counter which she took to the cash register and made change.

Becky nodded. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She might be. I was with her this morning." Mike saw Steve Maitland who walked in the front door. He gave him a wave.

The tall blond man's eyes narrowed and fixed on him. He seemed angry.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Steve demanded, only seconds later.

Mike motioned to his mug. "Having a beer, you want one? I'll buy."

"No. I want to know what makes you think you have the right to send her-"

"-candy kisses?" Mike finished the sentence. He caught Becky's quizzical stare and tried to grab Steve by the arm, gently guiding him towards an empty booth.

Steve jerked his arm out of Mike's reach and sat on the wooden booth bench across from him. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Hersheys is her favorite candy. I thought it might cheer her up." Mike picked up his drink and swallowed. "I bought her a negligee once, you know like satin blue lacy thing. And I found these candy bars on special, back during the war, and tucked them inside the box. I'd never seen her so tickled."

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Mike stared back at him. "You didn't really think I used her, did you?"

"I don't know." There were questions Steve still wanted to ask, and he wondered how much angrier Julie would get if she found out he asked them. "You loved her?"

"Always," Mike said, intentionally, remembering what Steve wrote on his card.

"Then why didn't you stay with her?"

"It's complicated," Mike reached for the basket of peanuts. "You sure you don't want a green beer? It's almost St. Paddy's day, y'know?"

"Fine."

Mike motioned for Becky, and she appeared in her emerald green peasant bar uniform.

"I'll have a Sam Adams," Steve said, fumbling for his wallet. He waited for the girl to leave before he started pressing for information again. "Did you really date her for two years?"

. "Don't know, just about. Being in the resistance made things hard. She would never move in with me or make any kind of long term commitment."

"Two years is a long time." Steve remembered the time he spent with Julie in college, when she'd sneak into his dorm and he'd make love to her into the wee hours of the morning.

"I meant marriage. I mean we talked about getting married after the war. We had a bunch of problems though. It just didn't work. So we just went our separate ways."

"Julie has a fear of commitment," Steve guessed. "I'm kind of relieved you told me all this. I was beginning to think it was just me."

"A fear of commitment? No, I wouldn't call it that. She just has her priorities. She's a stubborn woman. You have to respect her. You're not too big at that right now, are you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I love her!"

"Maitland, it's probably none of my business," Mike said, picking apart a shell to get to the seed inside, "but since I'm answering your questions, I'd like to ask you one."

Becky returned with the beer asking, "Mike, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend here?"

"Dr. Maitland, meet Becky," Mike muttered wishing she would find another patron to pick on. He wasn't in the mood.

"Hi." She said. "You know Mike's friend? I saw the interview you guys did the other night. I'm sorry about what happened."

"Thanks," Steve said.

Mike pushed the peanuts away and chugged his beer.

"What did you want to ask me?" Steve questioned only seconds later.

"If you're still so much in love with her, how come you're not together anymore?" Mike said, hoping it would give Maitland a reality check.

"Didn't she tell you?"

"No."

"Honestly, I think the woman does have fear of commitment. You may not think so. But I do. I mean we were going to get married, had the rings picked out and everything, and then on Christmas of all days, I find a note and she's gone. How's that for a present?"

Mike was amused by the thought of Maitland waking up on Christmas morning to find his precious Julie had left him. He wondered where she went. "What'd the note say?"

"She said she wasn't ready to be married. She had some things to sort through. I don't know. I mean at least when she did it back when we were in med school I kind of understood her reasons. But you'd think since she's an established Biochemist now, and seems to have it together, she'd be ready to settle down."

"Well then maybe you should stop pushing her and just let her go."

"Why, so you can have her? That's what you're after isn't it?"

"No." Mike downed what was left of the mug. "I'm just trying to be her friend. That's all she needs from anyone right now."

"Then why would you send something so personal?"

"It was a joke, okay?"

"On me, huh? I guess that's why she laughed when she read your note!"

"Did you read it?"

"No, she took it off."

"Then how do you know what I said wasn't funny?"

"Because of how Connie reacted," he explained.

"What did she do?" Mike chuckled.

"Just gave her opinion of why Julie shouldn't start a new relationship right now. You know Connie doesn't like you, Donovan. How did you think she would react?"

"Probably that way. Look, my concern is for Julie right now. What you guys have been doing to her, the way you've been talking to her is wrong. She's going to need time and space to get through when she get's home, and not your place. Her place."

Steve thought about it, knowing things Mike didn't. "I don't think they'll release her to go home and be alone by herself. I mean once the pneumonia subsides and she is able to get around on her own some, they will send her home on a little bit of medicine. But she'll need people to look after her. She shouldn't be left alone."

"Is that your opinion or what the doctors said?"

"Probably both. She lost an awful amount of blood. Her bodies not adjusted to everything. And you know how these HMO's are. They'll probably have her out sometime next week."

"How can you be sure?"

"It's all about money. Why should they pay for her total recovery when she can do it in the comfort of her own home? I bet the room she's in now costs at least $600 a day."

"I bet your right." Mike agreed. "Have you gotten any more insight into the bacteria infection? Or is she going to be okay with what they've got her on?"

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that." Steve took a peanut and crushed it between his thumb and forefinger. "You know I've only had a chance to work with it for a few days, but I think what I'm seeing is that it would respond to the standard meds for a while, and then build up a resistance."

"What are you saying?"

"There's a chance she could get sick all over again."

"With pneumonia?"

"Yeah. And that's part of the reason why I wanted to take her home with me. But I don't think it'll happen. I think Julie needs to know what the risks are. I know you haven't told her anything about what went on with you and Mr. Tyler finding Pico, or anything else."

"Why don't you let me tell her," Mike suggested. "I plan on going back to see her tomorrow. She's already upset with you as it is."

"Fine." All I need is for her to think I've been keeping things from her, Steve mused.


	30. Conflicting Versions of the Truth

**29 Conflicting Versions of the Truth**

The metal walker which sat near the window sil was way out of Julie's reach. Nurse Brenda helped Julie slowly sit up. Julie used her own arm to brace and balance herself on the bed. Being upright brought stinging pain, and the feeling her stitches were being ripped apart. She blinked a few tears away, trying hard not to cry.

Brenda bent down and slipped a pair of blue fuzzy socks on the woman's feet. Then, she wheeled the walker over to her. Putting her hands on the sides of it, Julie pulled herself up into a standing position. The movement was met with an even sharper, tearing sensation as she straightened. She gasped.

"You're alright," Brenda tried to reassure her.

Julie knew she was okay, and what she was feeling was normal, but the knowledge didn't lessen her pain. Brenda helped Julie turn the walker towards the wall in front of the bed. Julie pushed, taking one slow, single step at a time, wondering how far she would get today, or if she wouldn't collapse from exhaustion before making it back to the bed.

It was 9 am, and Julie found it strange her mother had not shown up yet. Yesterday morning, Connie was by her side giving encouragement, and now she wasn't there. Julie thought to herself if Connie didn't show within the hour, she would give her a call at Steve's place. Certainly, Maitland would be working by now, unless something happened to either or both of them.

As Julie and Brenda exited the doorway of her tiny private room, they saw a man approaching in the hall, carrying a vase of spring colored flowers in shades of purple and pink.

"Ham?" Julie smiled.

Ham gave her a onceover, and nodded approvingly. "I see you're doing better."

"Thanks, I'm trying." She tightened her grip on the walker and took another small step.

"I'll wait til you're finished." He slipped past her and walked into her room, putting the flowers down on the window sil right next to the large spray of red roses. He noted the flowers were from Steve Maitland. Right next to them was a teddy bear like the one Chris Faber's son had, and on the other side was another bear, attached to a gift bagd filled with red and silver Hershey's kisses, also from Maitland, he guessed.

Ham took a seat in the empty chair on the other side of Julie's bed and waited for her. It wasn't but about five minutes later before the blonde returned and was aided back into bed by her nurse. Julie's face was now awash with tears.

"Want me to come back later?" Ham said.

"Of course not." She reached over to her bedside table and grabbed a handful of Kleenex. "I'm going to be okay."

Nurse Brenda pulled Julie's cover up around her tiny frame. "I'll get you some more pain med if you'd like."

"Not yet," Julie pleaded. She wanted to keep her mind clear for Ham's company, or anyone else who might come soon. "Thank you for the flowers, their beautiful."

Ham flashed a grin. "Did Gooder bring you anything?"

"Chocolate." She pointed to the bag of candy kisses. "Over there."

He paused, thinking of how distasteful Donovan's gesture was. "I meant from me?"

"Yeah," she remembered. "I had them put up in the closet. Thank you so much. I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"I figured you risked your life trying to protect whatever's on those disks. It must be important."

"Steve and I have been working on a project. I'm hoping it will go faster with that information."

"Gooder said something about it."

"I keep thinking if there were some way I could have a computer brought up to the hospital, when I'm awake maybe I could start logging the data for Steven in a notebook and he could use it in the lab now."

"I thought they wanted you to rest."

"I know." She smiled a guilty grin. "I'm just anxious to see it finished."

"You need rest!"

Julie batted her eyelashes playfully. "Why Mr. Tyler, I didn't know you had such great concern for me. I'm touched."

"You need to get well. I'm supposed to walk you down the isle."

"What?" she laughed. "Oh, Ham I'm not getting married. Steve and I are just friends."

"I meant for Chris' wedding."

"Oh." Julie thought about it. Maggie made no mention of an official engagement last time she was here. "Did he propose to her?"

Ham nodded, still confused about the roses and Donovan's gift. He changed the subject again, wondering how much she knew about the events which transpired the other day. "Did Gooder tell you anything about the guy who shot you?"

"Just that the police are still looking for him, same as on the news," she sighed. "Do you think he knows more?"

"I don't know," he lied, getting up and going over to her side. He kissed her forehead. "I have to go see some people. I'll catch up with you later."

"Always business, Mr. Tyler?" she teased.

* * *

Exiting the room, he turned back and smiled at her, giving her a wave. As he rounded the corner outside the room, he nearly bumped into Mike Donovan.

"Hey, Gooder."

"Ham," Mike said. "Long time no see. What have you been up to?"

"Just spoke with Julie. She's doing better."

"Got a minute?"

Ham followed Mike into a waiting room.

"You say anything to Julie about Pico?" Mike asked.

"No, and neither have you?"

Mike shook his head. "I didn't think she'd be ready to hear it. I've been concerned about you though. You never finished telling me about why you did what you did."

"Another time," Ham said distractedly. "I'm late." He started to head for the hallway.

"Bullshit."

* * *

Having seen both Ham and Mike walk by her doorway, Julie lay in her bed wondering what they refused to talk about in front of her. Just as she suspected, Mike came into her room alone, and proceeded to act like everything was fine.

"Hi, Julie."

"Hi Romeo." It was a code name he'd used back during the war days. "That was some gift."

"I thought you might like it." He stood by her bedside gazing down at her. "How are you today?"

"Okay. How's Sean?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "About the same."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Not now." He noticed the new bouquet in the window sil. "Another admirer?"

"Ham."

"Wow, I didn't think he had it in him."

"I haven't had a chance to read his card," she said.

He walked over to the flowers and pulled the little card, reading it aloud. "Get well soon…. Tyler."

"He's so charming."

Mike put the card back in the flowers. "Maitland said you wouldn't let him read my card."

"You spoke to him?"

"Yeah, I had to." He came back over and sat down in the chair.

"Why?!" She could just picture it in her mind, Mike laying down the law with Steve, and now wondered if it didn't have something to do with his, or Connie's failure to visit her today.

"A man's gotta protect what's his."

She stared at him, now thinking about what Mike wrote on the card, and perhaps maybe he really meant it. The color drained from her face.

"I'm joking," he said after a few seconds, chuckling.

"Y-you really had me there." She forced a laugh.

"I know," he laughed again. "I did talk to Mailtand though, about other things. Well I tried anyway. He did have questions about us and he was angry with me. I think I got him to cool off."

"What questions?"

"About how long we were together and if I loved you."

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth."

She closed her eyes for a short spell and then opened them, looking at him again. "I feel bad, Mike. I mean after I read your note I started thinking that what we shared was sacred. I shouldn't let you pretend you want me back, if you don't. We loved each other then, and it's not fair now."

"I told him it was a joke."

A part of her wanted to ask him why, but she figured maybe Steve would have gotten the message anyway.

"How did he react?"

"I'm not sure if he believes me."

"He's insecure about you being around period. He hasn't accepted that it's over between me and him, and if it weren't for my mom staying with him, I'd not let him back up here. I don't want him near me right now."

"Julie, you can't do that. He might be able to help you."

"How? By making me angry constantly?"

He stood up and sat on the edge of her bed. "No. There's some things he and I have been keeping from you."

"My ex lovers as co-conspirators? How quaint."

"I think I need to ask for your forgiveness before I say what I've got to say. But given your condition, I hope you'll understand."

"I'll let you know if you're forgiven after you tell me what it is," she said coldly.

"Well, you can be mad Ham as well because he had a part in at too."

"Funny, I thought it was a personal problem between you and Steve."

"No, it's got nothing to do with that. It concerns your health, and whether or not you'll be able to shake this bug."

Julie thought about the positive report her doctor had given last night, after her mother and Steve left. "My white cell counts almost down to normal. They're talking about releasing me on Monday. I haven't even had much coughing today."

"I'm glad to hear it Julie, and I hope it's all true. But there are some things you don't know." He stood up again, putting his hands in his jean pockets. "It has to do with Dr. Pico."

"And?"

"On Sunday evening, Ham went after him and found him down at a park near my house. He asked me to come pick them up."

"Ham was just here and acted like he didn't know anything! You've also been acting?"

"My concern is for your health, and you don't need extra stress right now."

"What happened to Pico?"

He drew a breath and let it out slowly. "Well, after Tyler and I questioned him, I left him in Tyler's care at Pico's house. When I came back to check on him, Tyler said Pico had died."

"What from?"

"He claims it's from the pneumonia, same as you got. But I don't believe him. He's being evasive. You know how Ham can be. He's hiding something."

"Where's the body at?"

"He wouldn't tell me that either."

"Did you call the police?"

"No… it's just complicated," he paused. "And there's more to it than that, Julie."

"You still haven't told me how Steve's involved."

"Right. It's because of the pneumonia. We and the police think it's a hybrid Pico created something that will develop antibodies to the normal treatments. I know of at least three antibiotics they've put you on since Saturday."

"I'm doing better, Mike," she tried to reassure him. "Are you trying to tell me I'm not?"

"Steve said you could get worse again. Ham gave him some samples of the stuff Pico was working with, and Pico and your mucous samples. He's been doing some comparisons at home, trying to see how the bacteria operates."

Julie thought about the types of tests Steve would be doing, and whether he would be using animals. "Those experiments take a while. That's not something he can find out this early."

"That's what your doctor said. I tried to give him some of the antibiotic Pico created to fight it. But he said it wasn't FDA approved, and hadn't been tested."

"If Pico were on an antibiotic, then why would he have died?"

"I dunno. Maybe Tyler killed him. You don't seem too angry about this though."

"That's because I feel a lot better than I have these past few days. And I really don't think there's anything to worry about."

"Then you're not mad at me?"

"Do you want me to be?" She yawned, feeling the exhaustion and fatigue set in.

"Of course not."

She reached for his hand. "Are you going to come see me tomorrow?"

"You bet, just don't eat any of that candy."

"What?" she giggled.

"It's old, Valentines Day leftovers."

"Old expired kisses…. Mike? I thought I meant more to you than that."

He smiled, patting her arm gently. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, kid."

Julie wondered if he would give her a kiss on the cheek, forehead or whatever before leaving but he didn't. He just left.


	31. Same Old Song and Dance

**30 Same Old Song and Dance**

Flipping through the remote to Steve's living room television set, Connie sat on the couch all afternoon. She didn't pick up the phone when her daughter called and left a message on the answering machine. Connie wanted time alone to rethink her own worries. She was so disappointed in Julie's behavior. It didn't take her long to figure out Julie didn't want her around. Connie knew if she returned to the hospital today, then Julie would send her away when any of her guests arrived so she could "talk" with them. Connie reasoned her daughter had some screwed up priorities and didn't seem to know what or who was important right now.

The candy kisses and visits from Mike Donovan were no less disturbing to her. She still didn't trust him or her daughter. Her hope now was that Julie would improve and be well enough to be released on Monday, after which Connie would just go back to New York, instead of going to Julie's house to take care of her. Connie had resolved herself to not taking anymore of Julie's abuse. She decided if Julie wanted to be a part of her life, then she should have called these past few months. This woman was not the daughter Connie loved and nurtured years ago.

After a light breakfast that morning, Julie drifted off to sleep until she was woken up by laboratory personnel in the early afternoon. She reluctantly let them take two vials from her, knowing they were just monitoring her white blood cell counts. After experiencing the pain of another needle prick, Julie tried hard to get herself on her side so she could reach the bedside phone. She picked it up and dialed Steve's home number, hoping to reach her mother. But the answering machine picked up.

"Mom, if your there, please pick up," Julie said. "We need to talk."

After waiting almost a minute and making a few more pleas, Julie hung up, and decided to try Steve at work.

The Secretary answered after a few rings. "Aquatech. This is Mellissa speaking. How may I direct your call?"

"Melissa, it's Julie. Could you put Steven on for me?"

"Julie? Are you doing better today?"

"I am."

"Just one moment."

The sappy elevator music came on in a heartbeat, and Julie waited through a few lines of Whitney Houston's Greatest Love of All. It had been days before she'd heard any music. She thought of the few cd's sitting in the console of her car, and she needed to return the U2 one back to Maggie.

"Dr. Maitland, Aquatech" Steve came on, seconds later.

"Steven, it's me," Julie said. "Do you know where my mom is?"

"Home."

"No she's not. She's not answering the phone."

He paused for a few seconds. "She said she needed some time to think. Anyway, she wouldn't know who was calling. You could try again."

"I left a message on your answering machine. She's upset, isn't she?

"You hurt her feelings, Julie.'

She sighed heavily.

"You hurt me," he added.

"Oh, Steve, get off it already. "Mikes tid bit of information came back to jar her memory. "Mike told me you met with him last night, and you were asking questions."

He remained silent. Julie knew he didn't like confrontation.

"Steven, how would you like it if I met with one of your old girlfriends and asked them personal questions about your relationship with them?"

"Usually people don't stay close friends with their ex lovers."

"Well, it's difficult when you have to work with them." She was thinking about her having to put up with Steve for the past few months because of the project.

"Did you love him?"

"Very much."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't matter."

"Well I actually got something out of talking to him last night. I now know I'm not the only guy you dumped because of your fear of commitment."

"My what?" she gasped.

"Oh yes, Donovan said you'd never commit to a long term relationship."

We were in a war, she thought furiously.. "Did he say I had a fear of commitment or is that your assessment, Steven?"

"Same story, different guy, " he went on.

Julie felt the tension growing in her stomach. "It wasn't the same."

She thought about the other reason why she called, to inquire about the hybrid pneumonia she was affected with. But now, she was too angry to speak. She reached over and set the receiver on its cradle. She laid there for a long time and cried.


	32. Personal Favors

**31 Personal Favors**

Julie woke up on Saturday morning with the knowledge that she was another day closer to going home, which brightened her mood. By eight a.m. she was sitting up and having breakfast in bed. It was her favorite vanilla yogurt with a little bit of granola in it. After breakfast the nurse stood by as Julie sat on a stool in the shower, and she tried to wash her own body for the first time in a week. There were certain areas she couldn't get to yet because she was still too weak to stand for very long on her own. She held onto a bar attached to the shower wall as the nurse rinsed her long hair. Later, Julie would brush it through with the vent brush provided by the hospital, putting it in a French twist before it was completely dry.

After letting her rest a bit, the nurse came and got Julie for her morning walk. Wearing a pink robe over her hospital gown, Julie made it to her own doorway, and then a few paces down the hallway outside with her walker. Like always it was slow going for her, but the distance she'd gone only added to her anticipation that she would be home and on her own soon.

"Hey, look at you."

It was Mike Donovan's voice that startled Julie out of her concentration. She turned and smiled at him, proudly. "Hi, Mike."

"Hi," he grinned, standing back and letting her turn the walker around to go back towards her doorway. "You're really doing great, aren't you?"

"I feel great." She took a step and then another, her nurse on one side and Mike on the other. "Could I interest you in going to get me one of these for around the house? I mean before Monday?"

He studied the walker, wondering where he might get one. "Sure."

"I'll have to pay you back for all the favors later."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad to see you back on your feet."

She took a few more steps towards the door and paused, weakness setting in. She gripped the metal bars of the walker, holding herself there for a minute, unsure if she could make it to the bed.

Julie took a step, and paused again, looking doubtful.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Is something wrong?" the nurse questioned.

"I just feel weak all of a sudden." She looked up at Mike. "Can you get me to the bed? I can't—"

"You sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"That's a given," she murmured, annoyed with herself.

The nurse stepped forward and slipped her arm around Julie's shoulder. "C'mon, honey, I've got you."

"No," Julie said, knowing the nurse couldn't add anymore support than the walker itself. "Pick me up, Mike."

"Alright." He put his arm around her petite frame, and scooped her up gently, carrying her to the bed.

Julie tried to sit up, in spite of her pain, and slipped the terry cloth robe from her shoulders, knowing that keeping it on she would get too hot. She wanted to use her blanket instead.

Mike watched her struggle to move her bottom off the bed and get the robe out from underneath her. He pulled it away and hung it on a hook by the bathroom. Returning to her side he asked, "You okay?"

"I just got a little weak there."

"I'm proud of you for trying." He patted her on the hand.

The nurse who stood by observing, realized that the handsome man with Julie had everything under control. "Call me if you need anything." She started to head towards the door.

"Thank you," Julie called after her. She looked up at Mike. "This isn't bright and early, running a little late there, Mr. Donovan?"

"Just a little," he admitted. "I didn't want you to think I forgot about you."

"Like everybody else."

He glanced around the room, seeing that none of Connie's things were there. "Is your mom having breakfast?"

"Maybe with Steve."

"You talk to him about what I told you?

"About his questions or abut my disease?"

"The bug," he said, wondering why she chose to bring the other up.

"No, I didn't really give him a chance." She turned her head away, breaking eye contact.

"Problems?"

"Steve's an ass."

Mike noticed that the red roses were gone, but own present was still sitting in the window sil.

"What about your Mom?" he hesitated to ask the question.

Julie looked at him again. "She must be one too. I haven't seen or heard from her since Thursday. Steve told me she was there yesterday. I left a message and she wouldn't pick up the phone. Maybe he's taking her to the airport? I don't know. I don't give a shit really."

"You don't sound like you do."

"It's been rather peaceful without them here. I've had some time to think at least."

He sat down on the edge of her bed. "Thinking about going home?"

"Dreaming about it."

"Soon."

"I have another favor to ask you."

"Just one, right," he snickered.

"And what if I wanted more than one?"

"Well, it would depend on the favor."

She thought of the wide variety of things she could ask of him, and chuckled. "Have anything in mind?"

"Yeah, but I think at this point it'd kill you."

She felt her cheeks get warm. "Well, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"I'm kidding," He touched her hand again. "I wouldn't think of it now. What do you need?"

"Help getting home Monday."

"You got it." He stood up and stretched. "What time do you think they'll release you?"

"I don't know. What time do you have to be at work?"

"Three."

"I'll find out."

"Okay."

"Good luck with Sean today."

"Thanks."

She continued to watch him, wondering if he'd leave like he did yesterday without so much as a kiss on the cheek or forehead.

"Bye, Julie." He gently patted her on the right shoulder. "Don't wear yourself out today."

"Okay."

As Mike walked out, Maggie came in. "Hi there," she said to Julie and sat on the edge of her bed. "You look great today, hon."

"I feel good," Julie admitted. "Ham came by yesterday. He told me he's planning on walking me down the aisle at your wedding. How come you didn't say anything?" She reached for Maggie's left hand and examined the big shiny rock that was perched on her ring finger. "That's beautiful."

"I just wanted to wait til you're well," Maggie grinned.

"For the wedding? Oh, you don't have to wait for me to set a date. When did you have in mind?"

"A couple months maybe. You'll be fine then, huh?"

Julie nodded. "It's kind of soon though, I mean to plan everything. Did you check the hotel in San Diego?"

"Not yet. I wanted to see how you were."

"Just call."

Maggie looked over at the window sil taking inventory of the things that were on it. "You got rid of the roses?"

"Yeah."

Maggie looked back down at her friend. "So what he sent something else instead? Mr. Bobo has a Hershey Kiss friend?

"Isn't it adorable?" Julie laughed. That's from Mike."

"Donovan?" Maggie said. "You and he uh-" she paused searching Julie's beaming expression.

"No, he was just being a friend, trying to help me get rid of Steven, you know. You should read the card he gave me though."

Maggie scanned the ledge. "I don't see a card."

"It's in the bag."

Maggie got up, dug in the bag and pulled out the small 2x3 card and read what it said, all the while Julie lay in bed grinning from ear to ear.

"Wow," Maggie gasped. "You said it's just a prank on Steve? He doesn't mean any of it?"

"I wondered."

Maggie buried the card back under the candy. "I know he still cares for you a great deal, hon. But, you really need to focus on you right now. You've been through a lot."

"I know," she said, sounding a little defensive. "He's just been really sweet though, considering—"

"He's your ex?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember why you guys split up?"

Julie yawned. "Not enough time to be together, I guess. I really thought I'd end up marrying him."

"I know." Maggie came over to her side. "Look, whatever confusion you're

feeling now about Mike, just try to put that aside until you're well. Okay?"

"Oh, Maggie I'm not in love with him, if that's what you think. I mean until last week I hadn't even seen him in over a year."

"But when you see someone you haven't seen in a long time, someone you loved, and you did, those old feelings can come back. And they can be strong enough to make you forget why it didn't work before. Don't let him get to you."

"Okay."


	33. Good Luck Pennies, Bogart Movies

**32 Good Luck Pennies, Bogart Movies and M-16's**

In the courtyard at The Los Angeles Med Center, Mike Donovan strolled

behind Juliet Parrish, pushing her along the sidewalk in a wheel chair. Walking alongside them were Julie's best friend Maggie Blodgett and her ex-fiancee, Steve Maitland.

Julie was glad to be out of her stuffy hospital room, and glad for the company she was with. Her friends were discussing their plan to help her in the days ahead. Mike promised to come by and check on her in the mornings, and Steve would come by when he got off work at five. Maggie would be at Julie's apartment each night around eight o'clock. There would also be a nurse who would stop by mid mornings and take care of Julie's more personal needs like bathing, and dressing her wound.

Just a short while ago Julie learned her mother Connie was going back to New York on Tuesday, but before she went she would stay with Julie in her apartment on Monday evening, to help see her through the night and try to spend a little bit of quality time with her. Julie didn't want to send her mother away on bad terms. She knew once home she could focus and talk to her mother, and hoped the discussion would not lead to an argument.

Mike stopped along the sidewalk, and paused looking at a beautiful water fountain. "Maitland, you got a penny?"

Steve reached into his blue jean pocket and pulled out the circular-shaped, copper coin, handing it over to Mike.

Mike brought the coin to his lips and kissed it. He winked at Julie and tossed it in the water. "That's good luck for you."

Julie smiled up at him, her blue eyes brimming with tears as he and her friends escorted her back to her room.

Relishing every moment it took, Julie allowed Mike to carry her up a long flight of stairs to her apartment the next afternoon. Connie walked behind them with her daughter's set of keys in hand. Once inside the apartment, Mike carefully set Julie on the couch.

"I'll get your things," he said.

Connie sat a few of her own bags down on the living room floor. She assumed that Mike would bring up the others. She went over to Julie who tried to scoot herself up into a more comfortable position, leaning against the arm rest. Connie pushed back a few strands of blonde curls away from Julie's eyes.

"Can I get you anything?"

"A couple pillows," Julie said.

"You want your blanket?"

Julie nodded, though she wasn't really cold. She just didn't know if she would be staying on the couch tonight to let Connie take her bed.

Mike returned with a few bags just as Connie was tucking those two pillows behind Julie's back. Julie admired him as he disappeared again, out the door and down the steps.

"See, didn't I tell you he was okay?" she said to her mother.

Connie said nothing, figuring it was just better to let her daughter think what she wanted right now. The more important matter was seeing to her comfort.

Much to Julie's surprise, Mike made a couple more trips down the stairs even after hers and her mothers possessions were brought into the room. The first time he returned with a box. It contained a metal walker which he would have to put together. The second time he returned with a few Bogart VHS movies.

"Wouldn't want you to get bored," he explained, sitting them down on her end table. Then he reached into a small toolbox he'd also brought up from his trunk, pulled out a pocket knife, and cut between the cardboard and tape of the big box.

Julie sat and listened to the clanging of Mike assembling her walker, and hoped she wouldn't have to use it for very long.

"Want some tea, honey?" Connie asked.

Julie nodded. "There's a tray in the linen closet."

Guided by Julie's vocal direction, Connie found the door which was indicated, and opened it up. She scanned the shelves, expecting to find a small metal bed tray. But what she found instead was an upright wooden one, with a tall black metal object standing up behind it. The item roused her curiosity and she reached for it, pulling it out. Startled she found a very oversized, militia style M-16.

"Julie?" she picked it up and held it, looking back at her daughter. "Why is this in your closet?"

"It's a souvenir." Julie looked over at Mike who laughed.

"Honey, isn't it a bit dangerous to be keeping in your apartment?" Connie started to say.

"There's no shells for it," Julie tried to reassure her.

Connie frowned and carefully tucked the weapon back in the closet.

"Perhaps you should have brought that to our little rendezvous instead," Mike muttered, gritting his teeth and turning a metal screw driver.

"It didn't match my outfit," Julie grinned back at him.

With the last bolt in, Mike stood to his feet and tested the sturdiness of the walker by putting some of his body weight on it. "You want to try it?"

Julie tried to sit upright on her own, pushing against the side of the couch and the pillows, but she couldn't do it without causing a lot of pain to her surgical site. She squinted and blinked tears away, feeling the burning sensation rip through her chest again. She grunted.

Mike pushed the walker over to her, and gently helped her up.

Julie placed her hands on the soft rubber pads, and started to push it. She took a few steps and said, "That's fine. Thank you." She took a couple steps back and lowered herself back onto the couch, then, wiped her eyes with her hands. Feeling ashamed, her gaze dropped.

Mike squatted down and looked at her full of concern. "The medication's wearing off?"

She nodded.

"Can I make you lunch? Then you can take your next dose?"

She nodded again. "Would you help me lay down?"

He took her by the shoulders and slowly lowered her back against the pillows, then ran a hand across her face, and wiped her tears away.


	34. Liberation Day Fiasco

**33 Liberation Day Fiasco**

Living in Chicago with her Aunt and two sisters was not something Robin

Maxwell found herself enjoying so much anymore. Even her 18-year-old sister Polly wanted to go back to L.A., the place where she'd grown up in. The winters in the notorious "windy city" were brutal, nothing like Los Angeles. There was no ocean to visit on the weekends, and no endless California sunshine to bask in. The economy was bad here, mostly due to the ever-broadening destruction of the red dust to the environment. Robin wanted to be someplace where a gallon of drinking water didn't cost $5 because it had to be shipped in from down south. This was the least of her worries now, having been laid off from her job, with the weakening business of the restaurant where she'd served food.

On Monday afternoon she finally got a hold of Mungo who explained Kyle was in jail, and that Robin should probably find out for herself the reason why he was there. Fortunately, they put her through to Kyle.

"Kyle?" she asked into the telephone. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I've had some unpaid speeding tickets. I'm going to be here a while."

"How long's a while?" she wondered.

"About five more weeks. You heard about Julie, right?"

"Julie? No. I haven't heard anything. We haven't talked in a long time. You know that."

"Well," he paused. "It's a long story, but she and Donovan went after some files at Science Frontiers and she got shot by this guy who used to work with her for my fath-"

"Julie was shot?" Robin gasped. "Is she okay?!"

"I don't know. I haven't heard much of anything lately. I know last week Donovan did an interview with her friend, Steve Maitland. They said she was recovering but I haven't heard much since. I'm not allowed many calls."

"What hospital is she at?"

"The Med Center. Mike works for WKKG here in L.A. Maybe you can reach him at work."

"I'll try that," she said, writing down the letters on a piece of paper. "Can I call you back tomorrow?"

"I'll look forward to it."

"I miss you, Kyle."

"I miss you too."

"Bye." She pressed the button, then dialed formation, asking for WKKG's number. Then, she called the TV station. They said Donovan wasn't at work yet, but they would leave her message for him. She also tried calling the Los Angeles Med Center only to find Julie had been released from the hospital earlier in the day.

* * *

WKKG News Anchor Woman, 37-year-old Megan Foxx sat at her desk in the newsroom, scooping up a piece of birthday cake that had recently been distributed. She checked her script for the evening show, highlighting each segment which was hers. The intern Jaycee dropped off a rundown as well, setting it on Megan's black keyboard.

"Thanks kiddo," Megan smiled, savoring the last lick of white frosting.

Over at the next work station, a much younger news reporter by the name of John Nicholson chuckled to himself. "Megan, you're not going to believe what I found out about that chic Dr. Pico tried to kill."

"What?" Megan smiled, poking her head around the cubicle. She couldn't see the humor in the situation.

John motioned for her to come over and pointed to the small 13 inch color TV. He popped in a tape marked KDHB… Liberation Day 1984.

As the tape began to play, Megan recognized her colleague Mike Donovan, along with former Los Angeles Mayor, Nathan Bates and the blond woman whose face had been plastered all over the news lately.

"Watch this," John said with a delightful grin.

Megan listened carefully, wondering what he was so excited about. It was KDHB's own Dirk Small who had conducted the interview that day.

"I'm standing here with Nathan Bates," Small said. "Head of Science Frontiers, and former resistance leaders, Dr. Juliet Parrish and KDHB Newsman Mike Donovan."

"Mike looks pissed," Megan giggled as she sucked on her metal spoon.

"Shh," John pointed at the tv.

"Okay, I'm listening."

Megan continued to watch and listen as Small inquired about Bates involvement in helping the resistance manufacture the red dust for use during the first Visitor occupation. "What convinced you to take such an enormous risk?"

Nathan Bates nodded in the direction of Juliet Parrish. "Oh, Dr. Parrish. She can be extremely persuasive," he smiled, looking straight at the camera. "That's why I placed her in charge of the mothership project from the moment the government awarded us the contract. The Visitors were an advanced culture. I have every confidence that Dr. Parrish will succeed in unlocking their mysteries. We uh…" Bates reached over and rubbed the small of Julie's back gently. "Have a very special working relationship."

"Whoa," Megan said. "I wonder what kind of relationship that was."

John hit pause on the tape, hoping to play it for Mike Donovan when he arrived. "I don't know. Maybe she screwed her way to the top. Maybe that's one of the motives Dr. Pico had for what he did."

"I don't know. I never would have pegged her for a tramp, but you never know."

"I'll ask Donovan," John looked across the room to see their missing coworker had just stepped in the newsroom and was getting his assignment from Mick Pierce.

"And I say we just drop it for the evening," Mike was saying. "I've been gone all weekend. I don't have any new leads!"

"I bet you saw her though," Mick retorted. "We got a composite on some tire tracks that were left near the burial site. The police haven't located the vehicle yet."

"That's too bad." He headed over to Megan Fox and handed her a check for $100. It would be his last court ordered payment for what Sean did to her back in December.

"I thought you'd drop this off on Saturday," she sounded disappointed.

It never ceased to amaze him, in spite of what happened, she still seemed to want him, and he'd lost interest after the way she handled the situation with Sean, opting for a full out lawsuit, instead of an out of court settlement.

"I had some errands to run."

"Like seeing that punk kid of yours?" her words weren't so friendly this time.

Jaycee walked by, slipping a piece of paper into Mike's hand. He stared down at it, seeing the words Call Robin Maxwell, and a phone number sprawled across it. He pocketed the note, and noticed the paused image of Julie and Nathan Bates on the little TV.

"What are you guys watching?" he asked.

"That's what we were wondering," John admitted, putting the tape in que-review mode. "We were hoping maybe you could explain it to us. It could help with our story on Pico."

"Your story? I thought it was my story?"

"Mick wanted another angle," Megan reminded him. "The phone's been ringing off the hook. Your friend Julie has a lot of community support. People are worried, Mike. You should do an update on her condition at least."

"I took her home this morning," he said softly, watching as John pressed play. Mike watched himself on camera, looking annoyed and remembered it was Martin who was behind the camera that day.

"You took her home? What about that guy you interviewed the other night, her boyfriend," she said.

"He's not her boyfriend. They work together. He works during the day." Mike watched Julie's expression as Nathan Bates indicated having a "special working relationship" with her, after rubbing her back. Mike knew the uncomfortable glance she'd given him as if pleading with him not to think anything was going on between her and Nathan.

John stopped the tape. "So what we want to know, Donovan, is if your friend was screwing the old man, Bates? It seemed like it would give Pico motive to hate her the way he did."

"She looks young enough to be Bates daughter," Megan remarked.

"No, she didn't!" Mike glared at John.

John smiled. "You sure about that, how can you be so sure?"

Mike reached over and snatched the tape from the beta player. "Because she was my girlfriend at the time. This is garbage! You put it on the air and I'll hurt you!"

"Your girlfriend?" Megan asked.

"Donovan." Mick Pierce was suddenly there at his side. "Don't be making threats in the newsroom. What seems to be the problem?"

"Nicholson and his tabloid reporting style," Mike muttered angrily. "Do me a favor, leave Dr. Parrish alone. I'll get an interview with her when she's capable of giving one. Right now, she's not."

The newsroom phone rang and Jaycee picked it up. "WKKG action news, Jaycee speaking…. Yes, Mr. Donovan just got in." She held out the phone for Mike. "Robin Maxwell again."

Mike stepped over and took the call.

"Hi Robin," he said.

"Mike, I spoke to Kyle earlier. He said Julie was shot and you'd been with her?"

"Yeah. They released her from the hospital a bit ago. She's home now. You got her number?" He thought about what time it was and how little he had left to get a real story before the six o'clock show.

"No."

"Well, I'll give it to you. You can call her. I'm sure she'd be glad to hear from you."

He gave her the number, which he kept on another piece of paper in his shirt pocket. He planned on calling Julie and checking on her later this evening.


	35. Relapse

**34 Relapse**

Julie's problems began again as she woke up on her couch Tuesday morning. She could feel the congestion gathering in the back of her throat, and the pain in her chest with each hacking cough. She had nothing to spit the mucus out into, and reached out for her walker, forcing herself to get up quickly. Feeling weak and dizzy, she didn't make it so hastily to the bathroom.

She tried to control her coughing so as not to wake Connie who was still sleeping in the bedroom. Julie held the small amount of phlegm in her mouth all the way to the restroom. It probably took her a good three minutes to get there, even though the doorway was only twelve feet from the couch. Her walker bumped against the vanity as she leaned over the sink, spitting out the yellow mucus. It disappointed her because she'd not had any congestion for a few days now. And she wondered why it was there all of a sudden.

Turning her walker back out towards the living room, Julie felt warm, lightheaded and dizzy. She took her return steps back to the couch deliberate and slow. She got herself turned around. The cushion seemed to be a few feet away from her bottom as she lowered herself down onto it, and sat there, trying not to cry. Then she realized she had to go to the bathroom again, her bladder full from a nights rest.

In the other room Connie Parrish stirred from slumber. Today she would be returning back to Manhattan. Steve agreed to pick her up and take her to LA-X in a couple hours. Connie pushed back the comforter and got out of Julie's bed. She heard her daughter coughing and went out to check on her. But Julie wasn't in the living room.

Connie knocked on the bathroom door. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Julie answered in a gravelly tone.

Turning away from the door and heading to the kitchen, Connie wondered if Julie really was all right. She pulled a coffee filter down from the cabinet and filled it with four level tablespoons of Maxwell House. She thought maybe a warm drink would soothe her daughter's throat.

Julie made her way out of the bathroom and joined Connie at the kitchen table.

"You don't sound good, honey."

"I'm fine, Mom."

"Are you in a lot of pain this morning?"

"A little," Julie lied about that too.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"No, I'm okay. Maybe some toast?"

"Sure." Connie went after two pieces of bread, one for herself and one for Julie.

Julie began to think about the things in her fridge that might be expired, and that her next task was to make a list of things for Mike to pick up from the store when he visited in a while. She still found it hard to believe the length he'd go to help her. As long as it kept her from asking Steve or Maggie for the favors with their incompatible schedules, Julie was grateful.

"There's a notepad in the drawer," she said. "And could you hand me a pen? I need to give Mike a list."

Pushing the lever down on the toaster, Connie nodded. "He's really doing an awfully lot for you."

"I know." Julie hoped her mother was finally beginning to appreciate the fact he was there for her.

"Are you paying him?"

"I should. He probably wouldn't take it. He wouldn't even take my check for the drug store." It was something Julie found baffling. Mike paid for her walker as well as a few over the counter medications. Julie didn't know what the bill came to, but imagined it was over a hundred dollars. "I'm sure we'll work something out."

"Well," Connie paused. "As much as I hate admitting I'm wrong, I think you were right about him being a good guy. I may have misjudged him."

Julie looked up at her mother. "Really?"

"Yes, and if I don't see him before I leave, will you tell him I'm sorry for the way I acted?"

"Yes." Julie was surprised to hear her mom say what she said. She started to cough, and used the side of the walker to pull herself to her feet again. But she was unable to make the long trip to the bathroom, and just stood there and choked a little on the stuff which was trying to come up into her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the trash can.

Connie watched as she spit out another mouthful of stuff. "Julie?"

Again the wave of dizziness and warmth came to Julie's head. She gripped the hand rests of her walker tightly to steady herself. "I need to sit."

"I'm calling Steven." Connie brought Julie over a chair so she wouldn't have to walk back to the table, a mere four feet from where she stood.

Julie sat down slowly. Connie reached out and touched her forehead, feeling a little warmth she reasoned should not be there.

Julie pushed her and away. "I'll be fine, Mom. I still have my med."

"Give me Mike's number then. I don't want you to be alone after we leave."

"The nurse is coming by soon," Julie protested. "I'll be fine."

The toaster popped, pushing up two slightly golden pieces of bread. Connie pulled them out, and spread a pat's worth of butter on each, annoyed with her daughter's stubbornness.

"Will you be okay so I can get in the shower?"

"Sure," Julie said, accepting the slice of buttered bread that was placed in front of her. But she wasn't so sure herself.

Shortly before noon, Mike stood outside Julie's door and knocked. There was no answer so he knocked again.

"Just a minute," she called.

He waited about four, before she finally made it to the door, looking pale, wearing a white button up night gown, and leaning on her walker.

"You doin' okay?" He came inside.

She nodded and just stood there for a moment looking disoriented and tired.

Mike stayed by her, waiting for her to get herself turned around, but she didn't budge.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I got you up out of bed."

"I'm just tired today." She cleared her throat, and turned with the walker, heading over to the couch. It seemed to take her just as long to get there as it did to get to the door and she didn't look happy about it. When she was about halfway across the living room floor Mike went over to her, scooped her up, and put her on the couch.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

She shrugged, coughing again.

"You don't sound good." He helped her readjust her pillows, tucking them behind her neck. "Did everything go okay with your Mom?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "She said to tell you she's sorry for how she treated you, and you're a good guy," she coughed again, "after all."

He almost didn't believe it, but her expression said she wasn't lying. "Did the nurse come by to check on you? You seem… worse."

"No. I called about an hour ago. They said there was a mix up and she doesn't start til tomorrow."

He put his hand on her forehead and she jerked away, self-consciously. He looked over at the end table to see if the thermometer was there, It wasn't.

"Where's the thermometer?"

"Wanna play doctor?" she grinned.

He didn't find humor in the situation. "No, but I'll call Maitland."

"Oh, c'mon," she begged, coughing again. "I'm okay."

"I think you need a second opinion," he said, sharply. "At least take your temperature."

"I think it's on the bathroom counter."

A moment later, he returned with it, glancing down at the recent readout of 99.8. He shook it down.

"Did Robin call you last night?"

"Mmm hmm,"she said, opening her mouth as he placed the thermometer in.

"How long does it take?"

She held three fingers up, indicating minutes.

"I'll get you some fresh water."

He disappeared into the kitchen with her glass, and saw the kitchen was left messy. He knew Julie and she wouldn't leave it that way. She must really not be feeling good at all. He put two empty coffee mugs in the sink, and emptied a plate with a piece of toast which only had a bite out of it. Then he returned to the living room, but by the time he got there, Julie was already taking the thermometer out of her mouth. He snatched it from her before she had a chance to read it.

"Oh, c'mon, Donovan. I can read my own damned thermometer!"

"A hundred and two point four?" he stared down at her accusingly.

Julie closed her eyes, momentarily knowing she was busted. "I've got about thirty minutes before I can take some more Tylenol."

"I think you'll be masking the problem."

Rubbing her eyes, wearily she mumbled, "I know what you're thinking, Mike. This is what you were trying to warn me about on Saturday?"

"What do you think it is?"

She lowered her head into her hands. "I'm just," she paused. "Can you stay a while? If I have to go back to the hospital today I want to go take my bath first. I feel all icky and that damned nurse was supposed to help me!"

"I'm not so sure you should go back to the hospital."

Julie tried to sit up. The motion caused its usual pain. Mike reached down and let her grab hold of his arm to pull herself up.

"Why?" she questioned.

"Because the antibiotic you need is the one they won't give you. If you go back there, you might not make it out."

Julie reached for her walker to stand. "You think I should stay home and take that drug? I don't know what it will do to me. Neither do you."

"I think Maitland might know better than either of us. You need to call him."

"Fine. After I have a bath. Just stay out here. I'm feeling kind of weak now."

"I can run the water and help you to the bathroom. You don't have to walk."

"Fine. Don't make it too hot though, okay?"

"I used to wash my kid when he was little. I know how to make a lukewarm bath."

"Not too cold though, either."

"Can it!" he muttered, heading for the bathroom.

Julie chuckled, starting to cough again.

A few minutes later, the tub was set. Mike returned from the bathroom. "Tell me what you want, a change of clothes or something?"

"I don't know. I'll think about it," she mumbled, pulling herself up with the walker again.

"I said I'd carry you in there."

"I can make it."

He watched her go. She coughed all the way into the bathroom. Leaving the walker outside the doorway, she used the door jam, the vanity and then the toilet tank to hold her balance with her hands.

Just a few minutes later, Mike heard a loud thud.

"MIKE!" she screamed his name.

He hurried into the bathroom, finding her laying on the floor naked and trying to get up. He grabbed her, putting his face to her tear covered right cheek. She was even warmer now. "My God… you're burning up!"

"J-j-just put me in the tub," she cried.

He gently lowered her in the water, making eye contact with her. "I don't think you should stay by yourself."

"I didn't want," she gasped, catching her breath between sobs, "to be dependent on anybody."

His eyes dropped to the incision site on the inner part of her right breast, It was the first time he'd seen it, and there was still some drainage. Julie looked away, feeling self conscious.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she whimpered.

Seeing she was really in no condition to bathe herself now, he grabbed the mauve towel which hung above the toilet and draped it across her chest.

"I know you trust me, sweetheart," he said softly. "Let me help you."

Julie nodded, watching him reach for a hand cloth and a bar of soap.


	36. Knock Before Entering

**35 Knock Before Entering**

After taking Connie Parrish to the terminal at LA-X, Dr. Steve Maitland

decided not to go back to work at Aquatech right away. Instead he drove to a restaurant which became a favorite of his and Julie's a year ago. He bought her a chef's salad, and got it in a to-go container. For a beverage, he chose to bring her some Vitamin C enriched apple juice, figuring it wouldn't hurt her recovery one bit.

Having eaten a late breakfast, he purchased nothing for himself, and drove straight to Julie's beach side apartment in Santa Monica. Steve parked the car next to Mike Donovan's Camry, and found himself annoyed Mike beat him there, even in spite of Connie's concern Julie was not doing as well as they'd hoped. Steve thought he would check in on Julie just to be sure… to go back to work with some peace of mind, to know she could be left alone until five thirty, which was when he planned to be back at her house.

He carried the paper lunch sack up the long flight of steps and lightly knocked on the front door, assuming either Mike or Julie would be able to hear him. When he didn't get an answer, he knocked a little louder. Still, neither of them came to the door. He tried peeping through the peep hole, but saw neither of them in her living room. Reaching down, he turned the door handle and entered in.

Just then, Mike was carrying Julie out of the bathroom, her naked, wet body, wrapped in only a towel.

"Donovan! You gave her a bath?" he whined.

Julie looked at Steve with her teary eyes, then buried her face in Mike's neck, as if she were ashamed to let Steve see her that way.

"Maitland, next time before you open the door and stick your foot in your mouth, try knocking!" Mike barked. "Wait here!" He carried Julie into the bedroom and closed the door behind them.

Angered by whatever was going on he didn't fully understand, Steve went into the kitchen and sat the paper sack on the counter. He wondered if Mike would come back out momentarily and lecture him about not overstepping boundaries as Julie's "ex" fiancée. Steve mused how not funny it was that Mike seemed to forget he was also Julie's ex and he too was crossing some pretty heavy boundaries. But giving her a bath, if that's what he did, took the cake.

Nervously, Steve went back into the living room and waited for Mike to return with Julie. But he didn't. He came alone, leaving her laying in her bed.

"What's going on?" Steve asked quietly.

"She's real sick again. I was just about to call you."

"You mean sick like—" he started to say, thinking of the pneumonia that might come back at any moment.

Mike nodded. "I don't know what to do, Maitland. She's weak. She couldn't stand up long enough to get in the tub. And she's been coughing and congested."

"I know, I heard her coughing earlier when I got Connie," he said. "Julie just acted like we were over-reacting and she was fine."

"I made her take her temperature."

"It was 99.8 when Connie took it for her this morning."

"It's was 102.4 a bit ago. I'm sure it's higher now," Mike said. "It's a good thing you stopped by."

Steve's expression began to reflect his own growing concern. "I think I should probably examine her then. Her medical bags around here somewhere, right?"

"I'll ask."

When Mike returned to Julie's bedroom he found her laying down on the bed, still crying. "Maitland wants to examine you. Where's your medical bag?"

"Hallway… cl-closet." She sniffled.

"IN THE CLOSET!" Mike shouted back at Steve. He sat down on the edge of Julie's bed next to her, and put his hand on her right arm. He wanted to hold her again, but figured it would just cause her more physical pain, and make matters more complicated for the other man who was trying to help her. "Julie, we're going to take care of you."

"I need the Tylenol now," she whispered. "And ice water."

"I'll get the water. Let Maitland examine you before you take the medication."

Carrying the small vinyl black bag, Steve came in the room. Mike moved away from Julie's side, letting Steve have the access he needed.

"Any other new symptoms since earlier?" Steve asked, putting the stethoscope on. He pulled Julie up into a sitting position. Even her back felt hot beneath his hands.

"Just a lot more congestion," she sounded hoarse.

As he listened to her lung sounds she started to cough. Steve held her against himself, giving her the support she needed to stay in an upright position.

"I know Donovan already explained to you about this hybrid pneumonia. And I'm still doing the tests at home. Julie, in every one of the animals I've tested, the standard antibiotics were working for a few days and then they stopped. It's like what you have builds up its own antibody to whatever antibiotic I tried. But not the one Pico created to fight it. Those lab rats are maintaining their own. I've seen drastic changes these past couple—"

"Steven, I'm not a guinea pig. I'm a human being. And I know tests like those can take weeks. You don't know if it's a permanent solution.." She choked some and cleared her throat, catching her breath again. "At this point you can only hypothesize what the long term effects will be."

"You're right," he agreed. "But you're familiar with the three antibiotics they already had you on. Most of them have the same base. If you go back to the hospital, or see your doctor, they'll most likely just put you on some other similar drug, and you've already been on what was supposed to be the most powerful antibiotic on the market. You're getting sick again. This may be your only chance."

Seeing Mike was on his way back now with the ice water, Julie pulled away from Steve and laid back down.

"What is it?" Mike asked.

"Some pretty damned antibiotic resistant bacterial pneumonia, I'm sure," Steve said, "That's going to end up killing a pretty damned stubborn woman."

Julie rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"Take the medication," Mike said, before Steve had a chance. "Give it a shot."

"Mmm kay. And then I'll just lay here and die if it doesn't work."

Steve pulled the blood pressure cuff out of her bag. "We can't leave you alone."

"Well, okay," she sighed. "Have fun sleeping together on the couch."

Mike flashed Steve a startled look and then turned back to Julie. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of fixing you up in Sean's room until you're at least able to walk on your own."

"Donovan?" Steve asked, thinking again how Mike continued to cross the line.

"What?" Mike looked back at him. "I doubt she'll go home with you. I'll see about getting someone to check in on her in the afternoon. Maybe we can still use the home care nurse, if she's willing to cooperate."

"I guess," Julie said, feeling tired all of a sudden. She felt Mike squeeze her hand gently.

"I'm going to call work, and then we'll get you packed. I'll stay home with you this evening."

Steve let out a breath. "Well when you're done making that phone call, bring me the thermometer. Looks like I better call work too."

Julie closed her eyes as their voices faded and she drifted off to sleep.

" Julie?" Mike let go of her hand.

"Just let her rest," Steve said. "She needs it."


	37. A Place to Stay

**36 A Place to Stay**

Maggie Blodgett was so tickled as she drove home from work Tuesday evening. She'd spent some of her down time at work setting up reservations at the Hotel Del Coronado in San Diego. The date was officially set now. She and Chris Faber were going to wed on May 16th, come hell or high water. She could hardly wait to get to Julie's house and talk to her about the plans. Maggie already had in mind her wedding colors of navy blue and white. It would be an elegant ceremony to be held in the same banquet hall the reception was going to be in. At this point she only planned on having Julie as her Maid of Honor, and Chris was planning on having Ham Tyler as the best man. Neither of them had very many family members to invite because most of their relatives were killed between the two wars with the Visitors. The guest list would mostly be comprised of coworkers and fellow resistance comrades.

Seeing Ham's car in she and Chris' driveway. Maggie guessed he was probably there to talk about a tux fitting. She only wanted to check on CJ, grab a bite to eat, and then head over to Julie's.

Maggie parked out on the street and went inside her house. Chris and Ham were in the living room watching CJ who toddled around, carrying a couple of matchbox cars,

"Where'd those come from?" she mumbled. "I told you these kind aren't safe for him." She pulled the small cars from her son's hand and he cried in frustration.

"Maggie-" Chris interrupted her.

She disappeared into the kitchen, throwing the small toys into the trash. She was back in less then a minute, starting in on one of her tangents how certain toys weren't meant for toddlers to play with. "The kid puts everything in his mouth. He could so easily choke on something." She scooped up CJ who continued his tantrum. She tried to offer him a safe chunky toddler car, but he showed no interest.

"I'm sorry," Ham apologized. "My fault. I didn't know."

"Maggie, Donovan called here. He took Julie to his place this afternoon," Chris stated.

"What?" she asked, trying to put CJ down, but he held onto her arm.

"Ma!" he cried.

"Julie's real sick again. She took a fall. He doesn't want her left alone."

"Sick with what?"

"Pico's hybrid pneumonia," Ham explained.

"Donovan wants you to go to his place to check on her now," Chris added.

"He's there? He's not at work?" she questioned, shoving CJ into his arms.

"Ma ma ma," CJ called after Maggie.

"It's okay, squirt. I gotcha," Chris said, getting up with the boy.

"Why didn't he call an ambulance?!" Maggie demanded.

"Better let him explain it to you. You know where he lives?"

"Same house in Whittier?"

Chris nodded, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. CJ tried to reach for his mother but she didn't respond to him. Instead, she hurried out the door.

* * *

The messy clutter which filled the floor of Sean Donovan's room was an embarrassment to his father. Mike reached down and picked up the remains of shredded posters mixed in with a collection of Nintendo Battle City, Contra, and Codename Viper video games. He also organized and set on the dresser music tapes by Metallica, Megadeth , Pantera and Iron Maiden.. He'd left Julie Parrish sleeping on his couch so he could get Sean's room in order for her indefinite stay. Steve Maitland was out there watching over her and monitoring her physical condition.

Mike grabbed a GLAD trash bag, he'd placed on the oak dresser earlier, and slowly lifted some of the debris from Sean's last fit of rage, putting it into the sack. He collected the more in tact and valuable items, neatly organizing them in a drawer. He'd never wanted to go through Sean's things like this, for fear the boy would accuse him of violating his privacy. But now Mike needed the room for Julie's sake. He almost would have preferred just to put her in his own bedroom, but didn't want to deal with an inevitable protest from Steve Maitland. He thought of how awkward it would be for Julie too. She'd been in Mike's bed before, and on those occasions it wasn't for recovery from illness.

Mike carried the sack out into his kitchen and reached under the sink for a can of Lysol. He'd be sure and grab a fresh set of twin sized sheets from the linen closet on the way back too. In his haste to get Julie in a more supervised environment, he'd forgotten what a disaster Sean's room really was, and now he had to face it.

Steve Maitland sat on an armchair next to the couch, looking over today's edition of the L.A. Times. He gazed over at Julie who stirred with a coughing spell.

"Hey sunshine," he said.

Julie looked around at her surroundings with a foggy head. Disoriented, it took her a minute or so to realize she was at Mike's house, and then she vaguely remembered agreeing to come here so he could watch over her.

"Wh-where's Mmm—Mike?" she gasped, wondering how long she'd been sleeping. She found it strange they hadn't waken her from the time she fell asleep in her bed, after Steve's brief exam of her earlier, until now.

"Getting your room ready," Steve said.

Julie felt the mucous gathering in the back of her throat and choked, wanting someplace to spit it out.

She figured Mike must've heard the commotion because it wasn't long before he hurried in with a small trash can from his own bathroom. He helped her into a sitting position so she could get rid of the stuff that was clogging her throat. He put a hand to her forehead, noting she wasn't as warm as she was been earlier.

Steve saw the flash of headlights reflect off the living room wall and went to the front picture window to see a car pull in the driveway.

"Maggie's here," he announced.

Mike gently pushed Julie back against her pillow. "You okay?" he whispered, his green eyes full of concern.

She nodded, staring at him, wondering if he was doing this out of pity, guilt, or something else.

Opening the front door, Steve let Maggie inside. Her eyes went straight to the woman who lay on the couch.

"Honey?" she gasped, going over to her. "What happened?" She felt Julie's forehead and wasn't sure what to make of the situation.

It was Steve who tried to update Maggie on Julie's present condition as the sickly woman went into a fit of alternating between choking, and bringing up waves of greenish colored phlegm for the next five minutes. Mike tried to tend to her as best he could, though at one point watching her hack up that nasty stuff made his stomach turn queasy, and he wondered how much of being around her he would be able to take.

Between Steve's questionable explanation of his and Donovan's motives for bringing Julie here for recovery, and Julie's coughing fit, Maggie expressed her own worries.

"She belongs in a hospital!" she yelled. "Donovan, you don't have any medical training whatsoever."

"Not true," he interjected. "I helped some in the resistance."

"This is nothing like that, and you didn't help that much!" she screamed.

"Do you have the foggiest idea the risk you're taking here? I mean you are making yourself responsible for her life! Can you imagine how bad you'll feel if she doesn't make it? She needs to see a physician!"

"Her doctor who won't give her the one thing that can make her well?" he yelled back at her.

"H-have to take," Julie gasped hoping Mike would finish the sentence for her, but instead he just listened. "P-pills."

"Right," he agreed after she finally got the word out. "She needs to try Pico's antibiotic. There is no alternative."

"What about you?" Maggie questioned. "You have to go to work. Steve works during the day"

"I'm taking a few days off," Mike said quietly.

"Wh-why?" Julie asked.

He just winked at her. She reasoned she didn't have the strength to argue with him now. Realizing she needed to use the restroom she asked, "Mmmy walker?"

"It's still in my car," Steve said. "I'll get it." He headed for the door.

"You need to eat something, "Mike noted. "You slept through dinner, and you shouldn't take the pills on an empty stomach."

"H-have to pee," Julie mumbled.

He looked down at her and smiled. "Want me to carry you, or would you prefer to wait for your walker."

"Nnnoo," Julie mumbled to Mike. "The bath was enough attention from you for one day. Thank you."

"I'm going to go finish preparing the room," he said, and headed off towards the hallway.

Maggie stared down at Julie. "What was that all about?"

Seeing Steve heading up the sidewalk with her walker, Julie pulled herself up into a sitting position using the arm rest. Steve came back and tried to assist her , but she shook her head like she didn't want his help. "Mmm fine."

After Julie was back on the couch and settled again, Steve brought over the container of fresh salad from earlier, but she frowned at it.

"Thank you anyway."

"What do you want then, Princess Julie?"

She wondered if he was trying to be sarcastic towards her. "See what the Chef Donovan has in his cupboard."

"I think he grabbed some things from your pantry. He said something about a grocery list you gave him."

"Soup?"

Steve nodded, relieved she just seemed to want something easier to swallow, and wasn't turning the salad down just because it was from him. He found his way into the kitchen, and searched for a small pan to prepare her meal in.

Maggie again began to think about all the medical things Julie might need, like an IV, a bedpan, or a catheter, should her condition worsen. She would need to be examined regularly and have her oxygen level monitored.

"You sure you're doing the right thing, hon?"

Julie shrugged her shoulders. Her body was starting to ache from a now climbing temperature. "I just feel sorry for Donovan."


	38. Dogooderisms

**37 Do-gooder-isms**

Connie's flight back to Manhattan arrived on schedule. Her eldest son, Jeff picked her up from the airport around eight pm eastern time. The very first thing she did when she got home that evening was to call her daughter's house, but found no answer. She figured maybe the girl was sleeping, and no one was with her to answer the phone. Connie decided to try back later.

Mike Donovan could be thought of as a hero on a white horse, a knight in shining armor and a man who rescued damsels in distress. You might even find him saving kitties stuck in trees, or smuggling orphans into safe territory during wartime. He was a man who wore a heart of gold on his sleeve, and everyone knew it. All of his heroic deeds earned him the nick name "Gooder," short for do-Gooder, according to his nemesis Ham Tyler who just found all this excess niceness to be revolting.

For Mike, having a heart of compassion like that not only came in handy during the wars with the Visitors, but now especially, in Juliet Parrish's time of desperation.. It wasn't because he still harbored any feelings for her. It was because he felt like he was the only one who could provide her with the place and attention she would need to recover from her illness.

So on Tuesday evening, on March 17th, 1987, he tucked her into the twin sized bed in Sean Donovan's room, and watched her drift off to sleep. Then, he went into his own bedroom to retrieve his blanket and pillow. He lay right there on the floor next to Julie the whole night through. For the longest time, he held onto her right wrist to feel her pulse. When she woke up he took her to the restroom to relieve herself, and then he tucked her into bed again. She would wake with coughing spells throughout the night, hacking up the building mucus from her lungs. By the time Wednesday morning came, her temperature shot up to 103.5, and Mike grew more concerned.

He didn't get a wink of sleep himself the whole night through, and knew Julie was as much, if not more exhausted than he was. He gave her the Tylenol and a dose of antibiotic, but it wasn't enough to keep her fever from climbing even higher. He tried to give her ice water to drink, but she didn't accept it from him.

Julie felt the pains running down her arms, legs and back. Heat radiated between her petite body and the blanket. She opened her eyes, feeling Mike's hand on her cheek.

"Please," he whispered. "You have to drink something."

"Mmmm so hot," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I know," he told her, cradling his hand under her head. He put the cup to her lips.

She felt the cool liquid go in her mouth and tried to swallow, but it only tickled her throat sending her into a wave of coughing. She tried to push Mike's arm away. He let her lay her head back down on the pillow.

He tried to think what to do to try to help her, knowing she probably now needed an IV bag to keep her hydrated. Maggie said she'd see about sneaking one out from work Wednesday evening. It would be another 11 hours before she came by, though Mike would call her and give her an update on Julie's weakening condition soon.

"Hot," Julie said again, trying to push away the covers from her body. It was no use. Her arms ached too much. Mike pulled back the sheet and the blanket. Julie now just had her long white nightgown and underwear on.

Mike disappeared out in to the hallway, and returned moments later with a cold, damp washcloth. He began to dab at her face as she slipped in and out of consciousness. He tried to give her the water again, but she hadn't the strength to swallow. He grabbed the thermometer from Sean's nightstand, and placed it between her tongue and the bottom of her mouth. This time when he took it out, it read 104.5.

"Julie." He patted her hand, trying to get her attention.

Briefly, she stirred.

"Julie," he tried again.

"No….." she mumbled. "Mmmm burning up."

"I know." he winced. "You have to tell me how to help you." He watched as her right hand dropped into a more relaxed position. She'd lost consciousness, or was just sleeping. He couldn't decide which was the case, but knew he couldn't leave her like this.

"JULIE!"

Her eyes flew open and she looked up at him.

"Tell me how to get your fever down!"

"Wh-what?" she gasped, reaching for the damp cloth he'd left on her forehead. "Water."

"You want a drink?"

"A lukewarm…. bath," she murmured.

He left her there alone on the bed once again to go into the bathroom and run tepid water into the tub. He only hoped it would be enough to help get the fever down. He let the water run on its own, going back into the small bedroom. Knowing there was no way to undress her without laying her on the bathroom floor, he slipped her nightgown up and over her head there on the bed. Barely conscious, or even aware of what was going on, she didn't try to stop him. He carried her into the bathroom and lowered her into the tub.

She stirred, gasping.

"You don't have to stay in here long." He reached over and shut off the running tap, then splashed some cool water onto her face.

She stared straight ahead at him and not down at her naked body. The water barely came up to her shoulders, but she knew if she fell asleep here, she could easily slide down under the surface and drown. It scared her. So she tried to scoot herself up.

"It's okay," Mike said. "I'm here. You're not going anywhere. Just for a little ?"

She nodded, shivering. Her eyes felt heavy, and she closed them. Mike reached over and pulled her braided hair up out of the water, then continued to use his hand to cup and pool water down her face and shoulders. After about five minutes of this treatment, he pulled the drain plug, and let her lay there while he got her silk robe and the thermometer from the bedroom, taking her temperature for a third time this past half hour. It read 103.7.

With a gentle motion, Mike scooped her up out of the tub and patted her dry with a towel, then he draped her robe around her shoulders, trying to help her stand while giving her the support she needed to do it. She stood there shivering and shaking with her eyes closed. Mike tied the robe sash around her waist, and picked her up again. This time, he carried her into the living room and laid her on the couch.

He sat in the easy chair next to her and picked up the telephone, dialing Steve Maitland's number. It wasn't yet 7'oclock. He figured Maitland should still be home.

"Yeah?" Steve answered.

"Hey, I'm having a difficult time keeping her temperature down. It was 104.5 a bit ago. I can't get her to stay awake to hydrate her. I put her in lukewarm water for a while, but she didn't say how long to keep her in there."

"In the tub?"

"Yeah, for about seven minutes or so. She was up most the night coughing too," he looked down at Julie who stirred again.

"I'll be over in a bit." Steve sounded disappointed.

"Bye," Mike hung up the phone. "Julie, do you think you can drink something now?"

Julie felt the tickle of congestion at the back of her throat. Breathing in just made a rasping noise and she gagged, going into yet another coughing spell. Mike hurried to get her the little garbage can but didn't make it back in time. Too weak to sit up, Julie spit up the stuff on herself and her robe. She lay there crying. Mike went after the damp cloth and another nightgown.

"Sssorry," she whimpered, feeling him push back the soft material of the robe away from her shoulders.

"Maitland's on his way over."

"Mmmmaybe you should just take me to the hosp—" she choked again.

"You've only taken two doses of the antibiotic now," He pulled the robe out from under her.

Mike looked down at her incision and saw the drainage had dried and crusted. It didn't seem to be as red and swollen as the day before.

"Mike?" she caught him.

"It looks better," he said, reaching for the nightgown. He pulled her against himself to slip it over her head. "Are you going to drink for me now?

"Ttt-ry."

"Thatt-a-girl." He lowered her back against the arm rest. "You wanna stay out here today? I can keep a better eye on you."

"Did you sleep last nnn-night?"

"Some," he lied, getting up from her side, and going after the ice water.

By the time Steve got to Mike's, Julie's fever shot up again, this time to 104.8, and she wasn't awake.

Inside her head, she dreamed she was back in the conversion chambers, monsters chasing her down darkened corridors' of the mothership. As something jumped out at her she screamed.

Mike reached down and shook her. She didn't respond.

Julie continued to see in her minds eye the terrors from a hellacious period that took place almost four years ago.

"Nnnoo….Diana….Noooo!"

"She's dreaming," Steve said. He'd heard her say those exact words in her sleep before, several months ago. Only, after she woke up crying and he tried to comfort her by telling her she was okay, she kept asking for Mike to help her instead. Now Steve understood the connection. "She used to have those nightmares when you were with her?"

Mike nodded bending over and talking softly in the woman's ear. "Julie, you're safe. No one's hurting you."

She looked over at him. "Mike?"

"I'm right here." He grabbed her hand. "Maitland's here. Your fever's up again."

Julie glanced over at Steve, noting the same annoyed look he exhibited yesterday when Mike got close to her.

"We have to see about getting you an IV," Steve said. "I'd like to examine you."

"Where… can…. get" she murmured.

"The lab, maybe," he said. "I don't know, I'll see."

"I'll call Maggie and let her know what's going on," Mike said.

Steve unpacked the black medical bag, taking out instruments he would need to examine her. He found her blood pressure elevated, her oxygen levels down a few points from normal, and her lungs sounding more crackly than they had yesterday. He didn't want to leave her that day, but had to get back to work. He'd already missed two days because of this ordeal with Julie, and didn't want to let onto them about her present state, for fear they'd lose the water treatment contract. So he went back to work that day, only returning during lunchtime with a couple I.V. bags. He found that Julie's condition had remained the same most of the day. As she slipped in and out of consciousness, Mike Donovan did his best to care for her.


	39. Secret House Guest

**38 Secret House Guest**

Overnight, Mike stayed by Julie's side as she lay in Sean's bed. When she woke up choking and gasping for air around one am, he got the oxygen provided by Maggie, and gently held the mask over her face. Julie stared back at him with a fear filled expression, and he knew she thought death was near. When she cried he'd wipe her tears away, just as he'd done the other day.

Sometime before two she fell asleep again and Mike went back to his spot on the floor, not being woken up again until the phone in the living room started ringing around eight a.m. He checked Julie before going to get it. She was still alive. He felt her forehead, and there didn't seem to be any fever.

The phone stopped ringing before he even left Sean's room, and then started again.

"Alright already," he muttered, making his strides towards the end table. "I'm coming."

He snatched up the handset to find it was Connie.

"Mr. Donovan?" she sounded upset. "Steve said Julie is at your place. How is she?"

"Asleep," he said, unsure of how much Steve actually told her about Julie's condition.

"She's bad again?"

"What did Maitland tell you?"

"He wouldn't say, except for you took her to your place. What's going on?"

"She's uh," he paused, sitting down with the phone. "It's the pneumonia. We had to try the antibiotic. Her doctors won't use it because it's not patented. You understand? If she went back to the hospital, she wouldn't make it." At this point, Mike wasn't certain if Julie would live anyway.

"How is she doing?" Connie sniffled.

"Fever's down. She had a rough night, but she made it through. I need to check on her and give her the medicine. Can I have your number? I'll call you and give you an update this evening."

"Sure."

In Sean's room Julie was awake, staring straight ahead at the large poster above his dresser. Thinking she was dreaming, she smiled. It was an image of her candy apple red limited edition Camaro. It was the biggest of all the posters in the room. The others images ranged from pinups of swimsuit models, to other kinds of cars and heavy metal rock bands.

Mike came back to her side and asked. "How you feeling?"

Julie cleared her throat to speak. "Yucky."

He nodded sympathetically. "I'll get the thermometer."

Julie lay there and watched him go again. He came back moments later with the thermometer and a glass of water and by that time, she forced herself up into a sitting position, leaning back against several pillows. The dull burning sensation still nagged at her incision site, and her chest hurt from all the coughing she'd been doing these past couple days.

"You have to work today?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," he said, sticking the mercury glass thermometer under her tongue.

Julie shrugged her shoulders, still not understanding how he could take so much time off to take care of her.

"I know I'll have to see if someone can come watch you between two thirty and five thirty," he said. "I tried to get that home nurse to come out yesterday, and she won't have anything to do with this."

After a couple minutes, Julie took the thermometer out of her mouth. It read 99.5. Mike reached for it.

"Much better," he winked at her. "You feel better?"

"Some."

"Let's get you something to eat so you can take your medicine. What do you have a taste for?"

Julie thought about the two days' worth of nastiness in her mouth. "Toothpaste and a bath."

"Not very appetizing, but I'll help you. Why don't you eat breakfast first?"

"No, now." Julie knew it wasn't just her breath which smelled bad. She felt the stickiness under her armpits and in her hair. "I'd like to try it myself today. Would you run the water?"

She strained to get her legs over the edge of the bed, and reached for her walker.

"You sure you're not too weak for that?" Mike said.

"Are you going to let me try?" She held tightly onto the handgrips.

Mike followed her all the way into the bathroom and started to run the tap. Julie sat on the commode with the lid down, waiting for him.

"I might need a cup to rinse my hair with."

"Okay."

"Did you bring my shampoo and conditioner?"

"No, but I'll have Steve run by the drug store later and get you some."

"And a toothbrush?"

"I have a spare."

She hated to think about who else used it. She'd be sure to run it under scalding hot water before putting it in her own mouth.

"Do you need…. help?"

She figured he was wondering if he should assist her in getting undressed. "Aren't you supposed to be getting me a cup and fixing my breakfast?"

"Yeah," he nodded, grinning at her.

She waited for him to return with the cup, before she shooed him away, closed the bathroom door, and got into the tub. This time, she didn't fall.

Five minutes later, Mike was knocking on the door. "You okay in there?

"Yeah." She poured a few cupfuls of warm water over her long blond hair and then lathered in shampoo.

"I have jeans and a tee shirt for you. I'll be doing the laundry in a bit," Mike said. "Should I put them on the bathroom counter? I won't look at you."

Julie snickered at his sudden display of modesty. "Okay." She watched as he reached in the bathroom and laid her clothes on the counter, noting he was also sure to include some unmentionables. The door closed again and Julie rinsed her hair.

She struggled to get out of the tub, using the side of it to pull herself up. Feeling weak after the ordeal, she sat on the commode again, and waited to regain her strength.

In the kitchen Mike prepared scrambled eggs and toast for himself and Julie. He was surprised when she actually came into the kitchen and sat at the table.

"Oh, Mike. You didn't have to go to all that trouble. I would have settled for cereal."

"I would have served you breakfast in bed." He sat the plate in front of her.

She grabbed a piece of toast and started to spread butter on it.

"Milk or juice?"

"Since when do you keep juice in your fridge?" she teased.

"Maitland brought it. He said you need the vitamin C."

"Uh-huh."

Julie studied her surroundings as Mike sat the glass in front of her and took his own seat at the round, oak table. She thought about the day almost four years ago when he'd bought this place, and how he'd used his sign on bonus from KDHB for the down payment. Julie was with him. Pretending they were just married, he'd scooped her up and carried her over the threshold. She helped him decorate the house teasing him he could only kept the masculine furnishings until she moved in with him. But even then they both knew that wouldn't happen until after her schooling was finished, and Sean was stable. There were weekends when Robert Maxwell kept the boy with his family, giving Mike and Julie the time they needed to be together. There were the night's she'd spent here as they'd talk about their future together, and do the things that couples in love did with each other. Those were the times when he was totally focused on her, and she was hopeful that their relationship would last.

Mike watched her as she ate. She didn't seem so much interested in the eggs as she did the toast. He figured her stomach was probably still bothering her from the mucus, and she was afraid to eat too much.

"How you feeling?"

"A little tired now."

"You don't have to eat everything. Should I make coffee?"

"Okay."

He got up, taking his now empty plate and scraped it off over the trash. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Julie looked up at him as he came to take her plate.

"I need you not to answer the phone if it rings."

"Why?

"In case Sean calls, or my work. I don't want them to know you're here."

"Okay?"

"When I called in on Tuesday I told them it was because of Sean. Besides, they've been asking me to interview you about your recovery, and you can't do that now."

"What about Sean?"

"It's probably not a good idea," he answered, measuring some coffee into the filter.

"I won't tell him I'm sleeping in his bed if that's what you're worried about."

"It'd probably worse if he thought you were sleeping in my bed." He paused, thinking about what he'd said and what might be going through her mind. "Just don't answer the phone. Okay?"

Julie mused that it would probably make more sense for her to be sleeping in his bed, that way he wouldn't have to be uncomfortable sleeping on the floor next to her.

"Fine, Donovan."


	40. Memories on Film

**39 Memories on Film**

By Friday, Julie's condition improved a great deal. She was fever free, though she still dealt with a little congestion. She stayed on the couch resting most of the day, and cat napped now and then. She was able to stay alone by herself for a few hours while Mike went to work that afternoon. Around 5:30, Steve Maitland arrived to check on her, and then later Maggie came, but it was as if she didn't need anything from either of them. Julie knew she would have to continue the course of antibiotic for another seven days, then she would be more certain as to whether or not the pneumonia would return. Mike insisted she stay throughout the duration of treatment, just in case.

When he'd tried to make his pallet on Sean's bedroom the evening before, Julie told him she didn't think it was necessary. She was concerned for his fatigue and wanted him to catch up on some much needed sleep. Besides, she's found it awkward sleeping in the same room with him no matter how sincere his intentions were.

Julie used those few hours of alone time on Friday afternoon to make phone calls to both Robin Maxwell and Connie Parrish. Robin confided something peculiar in Julie, and that was her love for Kyle Bates. Robin said he'd invited her and Polly to come live with him as soon as he got out of jail, which was still four and a half weeks away. Julie was surprised to learn the true nature of Kyle's imprisonment, and felt sorry for him. She thought to call him on Saturday, when she was well rested again. She wanted to let Kyle know there were others who cared about him too.

The following morning, Julie woke up, alone in the house again. Mike left early to go see Sean just as he told her he had to. He stopped back by briefly to check on her and grab lunch before going to work an 11 hour stretch at WKKG. There was a big celebrity event going on up in Hollywood that evening for which he was picked to cover.

That afternoon, Julie found herself to be bored, unable to sleep, and not much able to do any real physical activity. She still depended on her walker so she couldn't very well carry her own laundry from the bedroom to the garage where the washer and dryer were kept. Her discharge papers from the hospital stated she wasn't to lift anything over ten pounds until after the incision healed and the stitches were removed. The tiny black threads which made their way through her suture were beginning to itch and irritate her. She still found it difficult to wear a bra, and went without, finding shirts which she thought were modest enough.

While in Mike's living room she began to look around for a book, or something to ease her boredom. She thought she knew right where to find them, tucked away in a wooden cabinet near the TV. But when she looked in there, she found a collection of video tapes. Mike had carefully labeled each one. They were of stories and events he'd covered over the years, and some were just footage of celebrations. She'd seen the archives of Sean as a youngster before. What Julie was really surprised to find in the cabinet was a tape of her graduation ceremony a few years ago. Mike had simply labeled it "Julie's Graduation". She slid the tape out of its protective cover and popped it in the VCR. Finding the remote, she put it on channel three. Then she pushed play. She watched as some of her fellow classmates went to the podium, their names being called off and the types of diplomas they received. Then, she heard her own name. It was the first time she'd been called "Dr. Juliet Parrish." Her crowd of spectators, mostly resistance members went wild an cheered as she walked up on that stage and shook the UCLA Chancelor's hand. She heard Robert Maxwell say to Mike, who had been shooting the event, "I bet you're proud of her."

"I am," he replied.

Julie closed her eyes, blinking a tear away. It was just another subtle reminder of how much he'd cared for her then. She continued to watch as the setting changed to the large dining room of Robert Maxwell's ranch house where a party was underway. The camera focused in on a large cake which said: Congratulations, Dr. Parrish. There was a design of a laboratory microscope and a mouse on the cake. Julie watched as the picture was jumbled a little. Someone else took the camera from Mike and he stepped around to help her cut the first slice of the cake and then kissed her. The others clapped and whistled.

She found herself wondering why Mike hadn't gotten rid of the tape. It didn't seem to be something a man should have around if he ever wanted to bring another woman around. For that matter, Julie found herself wondering if he'd really been alone all this time. After all, 27 months passed since that fateful night when he'd insisted they go for a walk, and taken her off to be alone in an abandoned deli near the Club Creole. She went back to headquarters and cried herself to sleep that night, not even realizing she was still wearing a small silver ring with a sapphire heart he gave her at the graduation party. Julie took it off just a few days after the official ending to their relationship took place. She remembered walking up to him as he sat alone in the common room, just before the resistance went out for another mission. She'd reached down and taken his right hand. The surprised look he gave her told her he thought she wanted a reconciliation, But instead, she put the ring in his hand and walked away. She hadn't given him back everything he gave her though. She kept the gun…. The gun which seemed to be missing now. She thought she would ask him about it later.

Around 3 pm, there was a knock at the front door. Julie quickly ejected the tape from the VCR, and tucked it back in its position on the shelf, then forced herself to get up quickly, ignoring the pain and went to the front door. Steve stood there with Julie's medical bag in his right hand.

"Hi." He stepped in past her, shutting the door behind himself. "Did I wake you?"

Julie shook her head. "How's work?"

"Lonely without you."

"It's too bad you can't request a new lab partner."

"It's your project just as much as it is mine. How are you feeling today?"

"Better. Maybe in a week or so I'll be out of here."

"Getting anxious to leave, aren't you?"

"I miss my own house." She watched him set the medical bag down on the coffee table and he took out a stethoscope. "Do you want to do this out here, or would you be more comfortable in the bedroom?"

"Here." She sat down on the couch.

Steve put the ear tips in his lobes and tried to reach down and lift Julie's shirt to have a listen to her heartbeat, but she wouldn't let him, pushing his hand away. "Uh… no, Steven."

"What's wrong, Julie?" He placed the silver tunable diaphragm on her chest and listened. "There's still a little noise in there. Have you been spitting up much?"

"Not as much as yesterday or the day before."

He reached in the medical bag for the blood pressure cuff and fastened it on her upper arm, then squeezed the bulb and watched the numbers fall. Julie watched also.

"Normal," she said.

"I'm conducting the exam, remember?" he teased looking into her eyes. "I'd like to get a blood sample today."

"Fine."

"And how's the incision?" Steve reached for her shirt again to lift it up, but she pushed his hand away.

"What?" he asked.

"I'll have Maggie check it later."

"Or Donovan?"

Julie glared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Well you don't seem to mind him seeing you naked."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The man bathed you… twice."

She tried to remember. What happened to her on Wednesday with the high fever and all was a blur. She recalled waking up in the tub and Mike standing over her, but she'd been so tired, and hot fell asleep again.

"Whatever Donovan did for me, he did it because I was sick!" She drew a breath,

"Right, Julie. You don't think he still loves you or anything?

"Even if he did, it wouldn't be any of your business, now would it?" she said sharply. "You know what? I don't think I want you to come over here and check up on me." She moved away from him. "Please leave."

Steve said nothing more as he replaced the contents of the medical bag. He left it on the couch because it was hers, then he exited, slamming the door behind himself. With a loud screech, he backed his car out of the driveway and sped away.

On Sunday morning, Julie woke up before Mike did, taking her bath first. Able now to stand on her own for a longer period time, she didn't braid her hair like usual, but wore it hanging loosely around her neck. She slipped on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt, then carried the bundle of last nights clothes out to the washer and dryer in Mike's garage without using her walker.

When she came back, and into the living room, she saw Mike was up. She hadn't really seen him since early Friday afternoon.

"Hi stranger," she smiled up at him.

"Whoa," he said, noticing the effort she'd put into fixing herself up and the fact she didn't need her walker to get around. "Feeling better are you?"

"Much. How bout you? How's Sean?"

"Mmm don't ask." He headed into the kitchen and started the coffee pot.

Julie followed, wondering why he had to be so secretive about what was going on with his son.

"You don't trust me, Michael?"

"It's not that. I just," he turned around, gazing down at her. "It's… difficult."

"Do you talk to anyone about it?"

He shrugged his shoulders thinking of Becky at Kelly's Pub who listened to his complaints on more than one occasion, but wouldn't tell Julie that, knowing she'd wonder why he was willing to confide in some bar maid instead of a woman who had been a close friend.

"Oh, c'mon, Mike. You have to talk to someone."

"I'm okay." He poured his coffee, and offered her a cup.

She took it, finding her seat at the kitchen table. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

He sat down across from her, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah?"

"Do you know what happened to my gun that day?"

"I imagine the police took it."

"Do you think they still have it?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Well could you see about getting it back for me? It means something."

"Something?" He thought of the inscription… Love, Loyalty and Friendship, wondering which part meant more to her. He realized it was probably the latter.

"You have trouble getting rid of things too," she stated after swallowing a sip of her coffee.

"Like what?"

"You know your little collection of videos in there?"

"Making yourself at home, Julie?" He thought of her going through his things and it kind of irritated him.

"I was bored and I thought you still kept books in there. I was looking for something to read."

"Well, next time you're bored, the bookcase is in my bedroom. You haven't snooped around in there yet, Have you?"

"I wasn't snooping! I just-" she paused for a second. "My point is there's this tape of my graduation. Do you have any idea what's on it?"

"Hmm, well let's see… Your graduation?"

Smartass! she thought, adding "and a party at Roberts house."

"It'd be a good thing to have then, since he's dead!"

"Have you watched it?"

"Not lately, no. Why?"

"Well, if you ever did bring another woman into this house, it's probably not something you'd want her to see."

"Why?" he said angrily. "Never mind. I don't think any other woman would make herself at home enough to go through my things without my permission."

"It had my name on it!"

"Would you like to have it?"

"No, I just thought you should be aware of what was on it."

He started to get up, still trying to guess what was bothering her. "You want me to watch it?"

Julie made a motion with her hand indicating he should sit back down. "No, stay, Mike."

"Well, you want to tell me what the problem is then? What's on the tape that some other woman shouldn't see?"

"Us."

"Us?" He thought he'd filmed the video that day and didn't remember being on it.

"You helped me cut the cake, remember?"

He shook his head. "Not really. How long ago was that? A few years. I may have watched it initially, but—"

"You kissed me."

"That bothers you?" he sounded surprised.

"I think it would bother any other woman who chose to be with you."

"Well like I said, if any other woman came in this house and watched those tapes without my permission I wouldn't keep her around. But since your name was on it, I won't hold it against you. Want more coffee?"

He got up to refill his cup.

"Mike, I'm sorry," she said softly, still holding onto her cup which was now full.

"Did Maitland come by to check on you yesterday?"

"Yeah."

He noted it was now her who sounded angry.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. He just won't be back anytime soon."

"Wait a minute. I thought we discussed this up at the hospital. You need him to monitor your condition."

"No, I don't."

"Really? You don't think you'll have another relapse?"

"If I do, there's no other treatment left to try. Besides I feel fine."

Mike swallowed, annoyed by her stubbornness. He figured Maitland must have said something to make her angry, or she just didn't feel comfortable being alone with him. "What happened?"

"He went off because I wouldn't let him examine the incision."

"Well, that is part of the reason why he's been coming to check on you every day."

Julie looked down, and quietly muttered, "I don't feel comfortable with him touching me… there."

"Well, I guess it's understandable under the circumstances."

"He said that I didn't seem to mind you seeing me naked.," she said. "Then, I just kind of lost it and told him I didn't need his help anymore."

"I was trying to help you! Hell, on Wednesday I'm not even sure you would have lived if I didn't put you in the tub! Did I offend you, Julie?"

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Of course not. I know, if it wasn't for everything you've done, I wouldn't be here."

He reached over and touched her hand. "Well, I couldn't stand by and watch you die."

"Thank you," she whispered.

A part of him wanted to get up and give her a hug, but he sensed right now it would just be awkward, so he didn't.


	41. Denied Insurance Claim

**40 Denied Insurance Claim**

Mike Donovan worked both Sunday and Monday at WKKG, having Tuesday off. He left home early on Monday afternoon to go by the Los Angeles Police Department and a book store. Again, he slept in later than Julie on Tuesday morning. When he showered and made his way into the living room, he found her on the couch watching the news.

"I got you something," he told her.

Julie waited as he went into the kitchen and returned with a small Waldenbooks bag.

Mike held out a small paperback. "For my lady."

She took it and examined the cover which had a racy photo of a blonde heroine wearing a 19th century ballroom gown that was cut so low it didn't leave much to the imagination. Behind the damsel an overly built muscular man stood, with his arms around her extremely tiny waist. Julie noted the color of his hair was brown. The title of the book was Nights of Passion.

"Donovan, what the hell is this?" she muttered. Not once in her life had she read such smut.

"Didn't want you to be bored," he explained with a sheepish grin.

Julie held the book down in her lap, staring at him in disbelief.

He chuckled at her expression, reached into the bag and pulled out a couple of magazines. "I'm kidding. These are for you."

She took the periodicals. One was the latest edition of Popular Science other a copy of National Graphic. "Thank you," she smiled, setting the romance novel aside on his coffee table. She got up and hugged him.

Her gesture of gratitude surprised him, and he patted her on the back before disengaging from the embrace.

"I've got some things I need to do outside today."

"Like what?" She followed him into the kitchen for what was becoming a morning routine of chat and coffee.

Mike pulled two white mugs down from the cabinet and set them on the counter. "Yard work. Haven't mowed it in a few weeks." He thought of the other things he hadn't done in a while, like go to Kelly's or hanging out with the guys from work. It wasn't that they hadn't asked, but he'd been giving the same excuse he had things he needed to sort through with Sean. If things went well, he still planned on bringing the boy home in 12 days. By then, he hoped to have Julie back at her apartment.

"Sounds like fun," Julie said. "Can I help?"

"I don't know. It may do you a bit of good to get some fresh air though. You can sit and watch."

"Oh, that's fun."

"Bring your book."

"Maybe I'll burn it," she smiled. "I can't believe you'd waste money on that… garbage."

"It was worth seeing the look on your face," he chuckled. "Oh, I got you something else."

Julie watched as he pulled her pistol down from the top of the china cabinet and laid it on the table in front of her.

"They wanted to keep it in your case file, but I convinced them otherwise."

"Thank you." She picked up her gun and checked to see if there were any bullets still in the chamber. There weren't.

"They're up there too." Mike motioned to the cabinet.

In a small Chicago diner, Robin Maxwell sat across from her sisters Katie and Polly as they dined on hot dogs with relish and large steak fries.

"We'll leave the week before Easter." She looked at Polly and then Katie. "Maybe you can come out and spend the summer with us."

"I'm scared to fly," Katie admitted. "I don't want to go all by myself."

"She could take a bus instead," Polly suggested, and sipped her root beer.

"She's ten years old," Robin protested. "We'll figure something out."

Katie frowned. "I can't believe you'd just leave me."

"No one said you couldn't come," Polly was angry with her. "Not everyone likes it here. Don't you miss California?"

"I don't remember," the girl said, picking at her hot dog.

"You were still little when you came here," Robin reminded her. "But it's so much warmer and nicer. And Kyle's a really sweet guy. He has plenty of room for all three of us."

"I'm not changing schools."

Polly rolled her eyes. Even she was giving up her schooling to make the change. She considered Katie to be selfish and spoiled for insisting on staying here.

The three sisters continued to dine and have their monotonous conversation, none of them willing to change their stance on where they wanted to live.

In her tiny Santa Monica bungalow, Maggie Blodgett picked various toddler toys up off the living room floor while CJ sat in a bright orange playpen attempting to make some car noises.

"Vroom! Vroom!" Maggie smiled over at him.

With his mother's attention, CJ pulled himself to his feet and lifted his arms, wanting to be out of his confinement.

"Not yet, baby. Mommy has to clean the house so she can go see your Aunt Julie."

"Nnnnn Judy," CJ babbled.

Maggie wondered if CJ was trying to say her name. "Julie," she corrected.

"Judy," he repeated back to her.

She giggled, grabbing a photo of CJ and the aunt he adored off of an end table. She held it out to him. "Who is that?" she smiled. "Is that Aunt Julie?"

"Nnnn Judy," CJ murmured, trying to grab the photo frame.

Maggie pulled it away and stuck it back on the table.

"Mmmmma," CJ muttered, reaching out for it. He started crying. "Judy?"

Chris Faber swaggered out into the living room, giving his fiancée a kiss on the cheek, and their little one a pat on the forehead.

"What's up, bud?" he asked.

Druid, their ugly Shih Tzu gave Chris one yap for attention. Chris reached down as the dog lay on its back wanting a belly rub. "You'll get yours too, huh?"

"CJ said Judy," Maggie told him.

"You mean Julie?" he nodded. "I know, he's been asking for her. You gonna leave soon?"

"Yeah. Donovan said she's got some issue with Steve and won't let him come by anymore."

"Maybe her issue is Donovan," Chris chuckled.

"You've been implying there's something going on between them since day one."

"How long is she planning to stay there?"

"Until she's well, we hope."

"Well you just wait and see," he mumbled, picking CJ up out of the playpen.

Maggie gathered her purse and her keys. "I'll see you guys tonight then."

"I'll wait up for you." He gave her a devilish grin as well as a peck on the cheek, and saw her off at the door. He waved.

CJ imitated his father, waving his little hand and saying, "Bye bye."

* * *

Juliet Parrish sat on the edge of Mike Donovan's lawn near what once was a flower bed which looked like it hadn't been kept up for years. She took a small garden shovel and dug around large weeds, pulling them up one by one.

Mike was yards away, behind a large red Craftsman mower, pushing it along. Julie looked over at him, smiled, and then went back to her simple little chore. She grabbed a handful of grass between her fingers and started dissecting the tiny green blades for signs of blight or other disease. It always troubled her that the red dust which was now dormant in this area of the world still had its effects on vegetation. Julie parted the nodes from the stems, holding them closer so she could get a good look at them. She only wished she had a compound microscope handy to get a good look at the chloroplast and amyloplast within the plant's cells themselves. She began to consider what treatments Mike could use to better care for the lawn, if he could afford them.

From across the yard Mike watched as she continued to inspect the grass blades. It was good knowing she was getting back to her old self again, never ceasing to examine and inspect the world around her. He imagined she wouldn't hesitate to get back to work once she was able, even if it meant having to put up with Maitland for the duration of however long their water project lasted.

A small black Mercedes-Benz pulled up in front of the house and Mike watched as Megan Foxx got out of it, toting her small leather handbag.

Great, he mused bitterly, shutting off the lawn mower.

Megan headed over to where he was, reached in her handbag, pulled out an envelope and stuck it in his hand. "I got another denied insurance claim Saturday."

Mike gazed down at the paper, reading she still owed four hundred dollars for the ambulance ride to the hospital.

"No way," he muttered. "I thought we had all this sorted out."

"I can call my lawyer and arrange for a payment plan since you're so poor and all." She noticed the petite woman weeding his garden. "Have company, Mike?"

As the younger blonde got up and headed over to where they were, Megan studied her appearance and realized the woman didn't seem to be wearing a bra. Slut, she thought.

"Hi." Julie interrupted them, sticking out the hand she'd just wiped on her Gloria Vanderbilt jeans. "You must be Megan Foxx. I'm Juliet Parrish."

"Donovan told you about me?" Megan assumed giving the woman's nasty hand a brief shake. Then, she wiped her own palm on her black pencil skirt.

Julie shook her head. "No. I've seen you on TV though."

Megan ignored her and looked at Mike. "I'll have Chucky call your lawyer tomorrow. I have to run. I'm doing the noon show."

Mike said nothing as he watched her get in the car and drive off.

Julie tried to steal a glimpse of the paper in his hand, but he folded up neatly, and stuck it in his shirt pocket.

"Lawyer?" she asked.

"Don't worry about it." He reached over and turned her back towards the garden bed. "Go finish. I'll make you some lunch. Then, you can rest."


	42. Uneven Score

**41 Uneven Score**

Having had her fill of sunshine and gardening for the day, Julie gathered the yellow handled trowel, transplanter and cultivator, shaking the excess dirt from them into the green grass. She went to the side of the house, found a spigot, and rinsed the three tools Mike had given her earlier. As she carried the set into the small garage, she could hear Donovan yelling in the kitchen.

Julie waited by the doorway and listened to him for a minute.

"Yeah, well she seems to be getting some sick pleasure out of doing this," he said angrily. "I can't afford to pay her right now! I can barely afford to keep Sean in there!"

Deciding she had heard enough, Julie made her way back out of the one-car garage and through the enclosed brick patio area, back into Mike's house. She intentionally closed the door loudly enough so Mike would know she had returned, now certain whatever was going on, he didn't want her to know about it.

"Well, call me later at work, and I'll see if I can't talk to her in the meantime." Mike had quieted his voice.

Julie entered the kitchen as he hung up the phone. No sooner did he put it down, it rang again. "Forget something?" he asked the caller while reaching for a loaf of white bread with his free hand. He untwisted the tie and reached in for four pieces.

Julie barely turned on the kitchen water faucet, so as not to disturb Mike's conversation while she used a bar of soap to wash her hands.

"Hi, Granny Bridgette," Mike grinned into the receiver. "It's been a long time. How are you?"

Julie remembered speaking to his aging grandmother before. It was a few years ago. She was a delightful, but lonely old woman, now around ninety years old.

"Oh he's fine. Almost as tall as his old man now," Mike said. "No, he's not home from school yet."

Liar, Julie thought to herself. Seeing Mike wasn't making much progress with fixing their sandwiches, she shooed him out of the way and took over, taking the dull knife from his left hand. She opened a jar of salad dressing which sat on the counter, and spread some onto each of the four pieces of bread.

"This summer?" Mike said. "I don't know. I'll uh… talk it over with Sean. I'd have to put in for some time off."

Julie looked over at him surprised, and wondered if he was planning on going to Ireland soon.

"Well, I'll call you as soon as I know anything for certain…. Okay… You too. Bye."

He put the phone back on the cradle and looked at Julie saying, "I planned on finishing those."

"Is she still trying to get you to come visit her?"

"Yeah. She's getting pretty demanding about it too."

"You still haven't been there?"

"Still? I haven't had time." He got two plates down from the overhead cabinet.

With a ding dong, the doorbell rang. Mike headed into the living room. He was surprised to find Maggie at the door. In her arms she carried a collection of bridal magazines.

"Is she awake?" Maggie came inside and sat the books down on the coffee table.

"She's making us lunch."

The tall blond lady went into the kitchen and addressed her friend. "Donovan's got you slaving over a hot stove already?"

"No, just sandwiches," Julie answered.

" I brought some Bride's Magazines. . I was wondering if you could look at them when you have some free time."

"Have we set a date?" Julie took her seat at the table next to Mike. Maggie sat on her other side.

Maggie reached into her purse and picked out a small pocket calendar. She held out the page opened to the fifth month, showing the Saturday circled in red. "May 16th."

"That's coming up soon."

"I know. It's just they're all booked through the summer and-"

"It's okay," Julie smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure I'll be okay by then."

"She weeded my garden today." Mike reached over and patted her on the back. "I was trying to see how toxin microorganisms were affecting chloroplast cells in your panicum dactylon. It's not good, Mike," she said very seriously. "You should invest in some potassium fortified detoxifying fertilizer."

"Okay?"

She cracked a grin. "I'm just messing with you."

Maggie laughed.

"See what I have to put up with now that she's better?" Mike grumbled.

Julie smiled a guilty grin, and popped a small bit of sandwich she'd torn off into her mouth. "At least now we're even for the little stunt you pulled earlier, darling."

"What?" Maggie asked.

Julie set her plate aside and motioned for Maggie to follow her into the living room.

She picked the sleazy fiction book off of the end table and stuck it out to Maggie. "Donovan's present to me, so I could ease my boredom."

Maggie eyed the steamy cover and laughed again. She pointed to the busty blonde and mumbled, "If you take a close look at it she really does look like you, and that guy does bare an uncanny resemblance to Donovan."

"Mike!" Julie gasped, realizing Maggie did have a point.

"What?" he poked his brunette head into the living room.

"This!" She shoved the book in his face. "Is that supposed to be us?"

"You mean you just now noticed?" He smiled down at her and winked.

"You- " With a quick motion she swung the book hard, cracking him in the forearm.

"Donovan three points and Juliet one," he muttered, rubbing the spot that now seared with burning pain, then returned to the sink where he'd been doing dishes.

"Three?" she mumbled, trying to guess what the third one was and figured he must have been including the little gag gift he'd sent to the hospital. "The game is not over yet, my dear."

Recoiling from her laughter, Maggie asked, "How long do you plan on staying here, hon?"

"I don't know. I don't know how much more of his charm I can handle."

Reaching down for the latest copy of Bride's Magazine, Maggie thumbed it open to her favorite flowing white gown. "I called Wilshire Bridal and they said they could get us a deal, if we get both our dresses and the guys' tuxes from them."

Julie eyed the creamy tulle and satin Demetrios bridal gown and smiled. "Oh, Maggie, it's beautiful."

Turning the page, Maggie showed Julie the deep navy blue dress she had picked out for her. "Maybe in a couple weeks you can try yours on. They said they have it in a six."

"Might want to order a four. I've lost a little weight." She looked over the dress and noticed how low cut the top was. "I don't know if I could wear it with the scar and all."

"We'll look around some more. Who knows? Maybe it will be healed up by then?"

But Julie knew better. During her time in the resistance, she had done several life-saving operations herself, and some of her ex-colleagues still bore the scars from those surgeries. She hoped for a dress that was a lot more modest for the time being.

After a lengthy discussion of pending wedding details, Maggie examined Julie that afternoon, and found her lungs to be clear, and other readings to be in the normal range as well.

"I still think you should get a second opinion," Maggie said as she packed her stuff up to go home.

"I've made an appointment with my doctor for Friday morning. Donovan's taking me."

"I'm glad. Are they making you sign a waiver?"

Julie nodded. "Yes. Stating that I refused the recommended treatment and understood the risks involved."

"The alternative seems to be working."

Mike returned from his hour of chores and opened the door for Maggie. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Thanks for looking after her," she said, "And keeping her amused."

"My pleasure."

"I'm sure," Maggie smiled back at Julie knowingly.

One the door was closed, Mike turned to his resident house guest. "Well, Dr. Parrish, I think its time for you to rest."

"I know," she agreed, feeling the fatigue of a busy morning set in. "Do you mind if I nap out here?"

"Why? You don't feel comfortable in Sean's room?"

She shrugged, propping a pillow near the arm rest on the couch.

Mike watched as she lowered herself down into a laying position, and saw the pained expression in her eyes. He realized she hadn't taken her second dose of pills yet, then, went after them and a glass of water which he gave her along with a kiss on the cheek. "Sweet dreams, kid."


	43. Financial Woes

**42 Financial Woes**

There were so many things Juliet Parrish needed to take care of. Almost a couple weeks behind on her rent, she knew a $50 late fee was inevitable. On Friday morning, she called Bayside Apartments, asking to speak to her landlord, who turned out to be more sympathetic than she hoped. They promised to waive the late fee if she brought the money in today.

At eight thirty a.m. she entered Mike's bedroom. He hadn't woken yet from working late last night. She watched his facial expressions as he slept, and wondered if he was dreaming. Julie was sure his alarm was still set for the usual time of nine am, but she doubted it would give them enough time to run to all the places she needed to go before he had to be at work for three in the afternoon.

She sat on the edge of his bed, right next to him. The thought of climbing in there for a cuddle crossed her mind, but knew in spite of all their light joking about their past romantic involvement, any more serious gestures might not get such a positive response right now. He still hadn't let on as to what was going on with Megan Foxx, and he'd come home from work in a bad mood these past two nights, even acting disappointed Julie waited up for him.

Julie reached over and rubbed his bare shoulder. "Mike, its time to get up."

He moved his head, finding the alarm clock at his bedside. No, it's not. he thought, but instead said. "What are you doing in here?" He noticed she was already dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white blouse. Her curly hair was pulled back in a banana clip.

"I'm sorry. I need you to do me a couple extra favors this morning."

"Just a couple?" He sat up.

"I have a few bills to pay. I'll give you the gas money. Maybe we'll have time to go have lunch somewhere."

She finally stood up and headed out towards the living room.

"What time do we have to leave?" he called after her.

"As soon as you're ready."

"Great," he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled locks. He knew her doctor appointment was not until 11:30, and he hadn't planned on doing anything else except for picking up his check and going to the bank.

At Doctor Holland's office, nearly three hours later, Julie sat in the waiting area next to Mike, with a clipboard on her lap, signing the denial of treatment forms. She hoped she was about to go in there and learn what she felt was true for the past week or so, her condition was stable and she could be on her own again soon.

"Juliet," a nurse who looked about fifty called her name.

Julie looked over at Mike. "Will you come with me?"

He nodded, knowing she wouldn't have it any other way.

Julie made her way to a scale behind the receptionist area and slipped off her tan flats only to learn she was still 6 lbs. shy of her normal weight.

"Down six pounds from the last visit," the RN told her. "C'mon, hon."

They followed her into a small examining room where Julie hopped up on a paper covered table and Mike sat in an empty chair. The nurse took Julie's vitals before exiting. The pair of ex-resistance leaders must have sat and waited a good twenty minutes before the doctor came in and shook Mike's hands.

"Mr. Donovan, nice to see you again."

"You too."

Dr. Holland turned to Julie, scrutinizing her general appearance. "And how are you feeling, missy?"

"Much better, I think."

The doctor took a seat on a small stool, and rolled it towards his patient. He looked down at her four inch thick case file, transferred over from The Med Center. "Any trouble breathing or congestion?"

"Not for about a week."

"How's your appetite?"

"Mmm… normal," she smiled thinking she had never been much of a big eater anyway.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it." Dr. Holland reached for his stethoscope and listened to her lungs. "Can you cough for me?"

Julie did as he asked, noticing it didn't even hurt as much is it used to.

"Good," he said. "Do you want your friend to leave while I inspect the incision?"

"It's okay. He's been taking care of me for almost two weeks now." She unbuttoned her blouse knowing Doctor Holland would be blocking any view anyway.

Choosing to distract himself from this part of the examination, Mike reached for a magazine from the rack on the wall. He didn't even seem to notice it was a recent issue of Woman's Day.

Dr. Holland smoothed his hand over Julie's right breast, feeling the suture area for excess puffiness. There was none. Julie watched his facial expression for any sign of disappointment.

"I know you're probably anxious to have those stitches out. I'll have Sheila do it after we take some blood samples."

"Thank you," she said, relieved the itching caused by those pesky black threads would soon be gone.

"I'd like to get a urine sample too."

"I've been holding it just for you," Julie murmured, working quickly to get her bra and the buttons on her shirt fastened. She saw Mike sneak a peek at his watch as Doctor Holland stepped away from her.

"How long before I can lift more than ten pounds and drive?"

"I think you still need to watch it with the physical activity. You've been through a lot."

"How long?"

"About six weeks more. No heavy lifting. No excessive exercising."

"What about going up and down stairs?" Mike asked.

"You have stairs in your house?"

"I have a second floor apartment," Julie said. "I'd like to be in my own place again soon and to go back to work. What about driving?"

"I think you're overly eager for someone who took a gunshot wound to the chest three weeks ago."

I need to go home, Julie thought. She wondered if Dr. Holland would make her sign another form stating she chose not to follow his advice.

"How long?" she repeated, this time more sternly.

"Six weeks. That's my recommendation."

A look of utter disappointment crossed her face, and then the tears came. Holland left the room to get the nurse.

Mike came over and drew Julie close to himself for a hug. "You're going to be okay. You just have to give it time." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm here for you."

Feeling the comforting warmth of his chest against hers, Julie clung to and rested her head against him. She thought of Maggie's wedding which was just over six weeks away, the project she wanted to wrap up with Steven, and the fact Sean was supposed to come home next weekend. She realized the last thing Mike needed was to have her around.

"I can't stay with you," she said. "Sean's coming home."

"I'll deal with it then." He reached over to the counter top and handed her a tissue.

Julie wiped her eyes, and waited for the nurse.

* * *

Mike went to work that afternoon, with his thoughts torn between bringing Sean home and keeping Julie with him until she was able to be on her own again.. He took her by her apartment on the way back home from the doctor's earlier. He helped her up the long flight of stairs by giving her a piggy back ride because she wasn't strong enough yet to make it to the top on her own.

While he went and got her mail for her, she collected more changes of clothes, and her favorite toiletries, along with some reading material more suited to her taste. He carried everything she wanted down the steps that day, including a small computer she kept in the spare room. He knew how badly she wanted to transcribe what was on the disks Ham retrieved from Science Frontiers. He figured at least if she could keep herself busy with that, it would be like working to her.

After dropping her and her things back off at his place in Whittier, he drove straight to WKKG to find Megan Foxx sitting on his desk, legs crossed, in one of her tight fitting blouses and low cut skirts.

"Mike, I've been thinking about our situation," she confessed.

"Oh?"

She reached out and played with his tie. "Well, I thought maybe we could discuss it after work, if you wanna go by Kelly's for a drink?"

"Thanks, I'm busy!" He shoved her hand away and straightened his tie.

Megan slid off the desk exhibiting a hurt look in her eyes. "I'm only trying to make it easier for you… for your finances."

"Megan, what are you doing?" asked Mick Pierce, coming over to join them.

"Getting the hell off my desk!" Mike glared at the anchor woman as she walked away.

"Donovan, what's going on between you and her?" Mick's attention was now directed to him.

"You don't wanna know."

"Well maybe I do. You know we could settle it right now in Darrin's office. I'm sure he hasn't left yet."

Mick was referring to the Vice President of WKKG who could no doubt handle the problem.

"Not today," Mike said. "I would like to discuss it with you sometime. But I've got a lot going on."

"Having problems with your kid again?"

"I'm trying to bring him home next weekend," he admitted taking a seat in the swivel desk chair. "I really don't need any more problems with her."

"What do you think she wants from you?"

Mike knew the answer to the question and he wasn't about to say it out in the open like this. "Another time, Mick."

The news director nodded his head. "I understand, Donovan."

Do you? Mike wondered, He wished he had time for a drink with Mick later, but sensed Julie would be waiting up for him again when he got home, and as upset as she was earlier he didn't want to let her down.

Mick walked away as Mike opened the PC program which contained a rundown for this evening's show. Tonight he would be doing another story on the skyrocketing prices of produce shipped in from the Midwestern United States. Mike now hated the mundane reports he was doing for WKKG, as well as the stressful situation with Megan. He wanted to look for another position elsewhere, but was afraid the switch would cause him to fall even farther behind on his mortgage payment than what he already was. At his wits end, he knew it was only a matter of months before he'd have to start looking for another place to live.

When he got home late that evening, he found Julie sleeping on his living room couch so he just went straight to bed himself. He wished he could tell her the truth about the situation with Megan, Sean and his financial woes instead of talking to Becky at the bar. Mike wanted someone to care who didn't earn a living from listening to people's sob stories. Deep down he sensed Julie still cared for him a great deal.

Julie woke up in pain the next morning, but it wasn't the usual type of pain. This time it was from a stiff back. It seemed Mike's couch was getting less comfortable to sleep on. Grimacing, she forced herself up into a sitting position and was ready to put her feet on the ground when Mike came in carrying a bed tray complete with orange juice, a bowl of light cottage cheese and another small bowl of fresh California nectarines and plums.

Her smile told him she liked what she saw.

"When you're through eating I'd like to show you something," he told her.

Julie accepted the tray, letting him put it down across her lap.

"More surprises?" she murmured, unfolding a white napkin, and spreading it across her lap.

"Just trying to solve a little problem of yours. I'm getting in the shower."

"I thought I got to shower first. What happened to sleeping in?" she teased as he headed for the bathroom.

"You're the one who slept in this morning. It's almost ten."

Feeling a stab of regret, Julie started to eat her breakfast. She didn't know why her fatigue suddenly came back yesterday evening. Barely able to keep her eyes open, she'd fallen asleep around eight thirty. She'd at least wanted to stay up and catch Mike on the late news.

After Mike's shower he came back and took the tray from Julie, not letting her carry it in the kitchen.

"Can I get in the shower before you show me my surprise?" she wondered.

"Sure, if you like cold showers," he chuckled, setting the tray on the counter near the sink.

Annoyed he used up all the hot water and she had nothing to alleviate her little back problem, Julie got up and stretched. The pinch in her lower back came on strong and she put her hands on it, making a sour face just as Mike came back into the room.

"Problems?" he asked.

"My back's just a little sore this morning."

"Well no one said you had to sleep on the couch. Want a massage?" He approached her, reaching around to the small of her back but she moved away giggling.

"You'd better not."

"Mmmkay. But I was only trying to help." He sauntered off towards his room. "Your surprise is in here."

Julie followed. "So I'm allowed to come in your bedroom now?"

"Didn't say you couldn't before." He walked over to the sliding closet doors and opened the left side, showing a gap he'd made where her clothes could be hung. "I figured since you brought all that extra stuff yesterday, and your suitcase isn't big enough. Besides, no point in having your clothes wrinkled."

Julie eyed the gap, thinking how strange it would be to share closet space with him in his bedroom.

"And we don't know how long you're staying," he added, looking her in the eye.

But she did know the answer to that question, because she'd spent most of yesterday evening thinking about it. "Through Friday."

"What?" he asked. "Aren't you concerned about—"

"I'm concerned I'd like to start sleeping in my own bed again. Besides, I have to get back to work. Steve needs me there."

"You can't drive for six weeks yet!"

"I'll take a cab."

"Well, why don't you just have Maitland pick you up?" he caught himself, wondering why he was encouraging her all of a sudden. "What about Doctor Holland's advice?"

"I have medical bills to pay," she explained, heading back out into the living room. "Besides, I could start slow and only work half days. Maybe when I transcribe those disks, I'll find something Steve and I can use to speed up the project."

"Then, what do you plan to do?"

"I don't know," she smiled, thinking of how much the contract was worth. "I've been thinking about buying Science Frontiers from Kyle, or maybe taking a yearlong cruise in the Mediterranean."

He couldn't tell if she was being serious or just pulling his chain.

"Only a year, huh?"

"I don't know. I just know I need to go back there and finish it. I know I'm going to have a lot of medical bills. They already sent a few showing what they billed Cobra."

"What's your coverage?"

"Like 90/10. I'm almost afraid to see the final charges."

"I would be too," he agreed. "Were you joking about being able to afford to buy Science Frontiers when your projects done?"

"I don't know yet. I think I'll just wait until I have the actual check in my hand before I call Kyle."

His curiosity wanted to ask how much the contract was worth, but he knew it wasn't any of his business. "Would you uh, go off to the Mediterranean for a year all by yourself?"

"Maybe not a year," she grinned. "Maybe just a month. I've always wanted to go to Athens and Rome."

"I remember that." What he remembered exactly was them discussing going there on a honeymoon excursion, way back when they talked of marriage and family.

Julie didn't miss the longing look in his green eyes, and she thought of the warm fuzzy feeling she'd felt yesterday in the doctor's office when he'd tried to comfort her.

On the way home she'd wondered if she really was falling in love with him again. She thought about asking him to go on the cruise with her, but figured he'd probably busy with Sean anyway, or maybe he'd have to use his vacation time to visit his ailing grandmother in County Limerick, Ireland.

"I bet there's hot water now," Mike said, trying to distract himself from the thought of being with her again. "I'll put your things in my room."

"Thanks." Julie disappeared into Sean's room for a change of clothes. When she had gone into the bathroom, Mike collected the overstuffed suitcase and along with a small box of some other clothing items, and carried them into his room.


	44. The Problem with Children

**43 The Problem with Children**

On Saturday March 28th, 1987, Mike left his house at 7 a.m. to get to the private mental institution near Santa Clarita. On the way there he drove past Magic Mountain and thought once Sean was stable, he'd like to take him there for amusement and some quality father-son time.

Mike arrived at the dormitory around 8:16 a.m. There, he was informed by staff Sean and another boy got into a scuffle the night before and they both were now in solitary confinement. Mike was denied his chance to see Sean that day, and it made him mad.. He was paying them $2000 a month to look after his son, but above all he thought his own strained relationship with the boy should take priority above anything else. He thought of how disappointed and angry Sean would be with him, thinking he didn't care enough to come.

Disgusted, Mike walked back out to his car and sped off for another hour's drive back home. When he got there, he found Juliet Parrish in his garage, toting a white laundry basket. She set it on top of the dryer and pulled both of their clothes from it.

"Hi, Mike," she said. "You're home early."

He watched as she poured a capful of Tide and a small container of bleach into the washing machine, and waited until the water filled a little before she added their whites to the mix.

"What are you doing?"

"Laundry."

"You're not supposed to carry that basket."

"I don't think it weighs ten pounds. Besides, it seems I have a lot more free time on my hands than you do. How's Sean?" She closed the lid on the machine and followed him back into the kitchen.

"I didn't see him "

"Oh?"

"He had some problems last night, I guess. He's in confinement."

"What kind of problems?" Julie hesitated to ask, surprised he said as much as he did.

"It sounds like he got into a fight with another kid. They wouldn't let me talk to him. I'm going to call the program director on Monday and see if I can get a handle on what's going on."

Julie bent down in her flowing white nightgown and retrieved pans from the cabinet.

"Now what are you doing?" he asked.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"No, but you shouldn't be cooking for me either."

"Why?"

"You know why."

Julie continued to gather ingredients to make French toast with a side of bacon. "Oh, c'mon. When's the last time you had a woman make you a meal in your kitchen?"

He thought about it, remembering she was the last one to make him breakfast here, a very long time ago. He couldn't even remember what it was.

"I think it was you."

"Are you saying you've been alone since we were-" she broke off.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he chuckled.

Retrieving a carton of eggs from the fridge she sat them on the counter, and cracked about five of them into a bowel. "Got any cinnamon?"

"Mmm, I dunno." Mike went to a pantry near the back door and returned with the small red and white McCormick seasoning canister. "Can't tell you how old this is. I don't do much baking."

"I would like to know," she murmured, still thinking about his previous question.

"A couple years, I guess."

"You were seeing someone a couple years ago?" she sounded surprised.

"No. I meant," he paused. "I mean I think that's probably how old the cinnamon is. Why the questions?"

Julie poured some milk into the bowel and stirred with a wire whisk. "I was just wondering."

"Uh huh," he looked down at her. "And you never told me how you ended up with Maitland again."

"You didn't ask."

"I tried to ask some questions the night we met at Kelly's. But I got the impression you were going to bite my head off."

"I would have," she laughed. "I was just really angry with him."

"I think you're still are."

"Yeah, well," she frowned, putting the frying the pan on the stove. She decided to revert back to her original question. "Did you really mean it when you said you didn't have time for women because of work and Sean?"

"There's been a couple since you." He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.

"Oh yeah, either of them serious?" she teased. "Not serious enough to make you breakfast?"

It dawned on him what she was really trying to get at was whether or not he'd slept with anyone else since her. The first woman he'd dated since the end of the war ended up being a one night stand at her place. And the second was Megan whom Sean punched the night of the WKKG Christmas party. Mike hadn't the chance to develop an intimate relationship with her, and was glad for it now.

"I guess not," he said, finally. "You feel better knowing that?"

"Oh, Mike, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I was only asking as a friend who cares. I'm concerned about you, you know?"

"Well that's good, because I wouldn't want it to be because you were still harboring any uh feelings for your old Pal, Mr. Donovan. I mean I'm sorry if I've confused you with all the extra attention these past few weeks."

"What does that mean?"

He thought about it, and couldn't bring himself to lie and say he didn't still have any of those feelings himself. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just wanted you to get better, Julie."

"I know." She dipped pieces of bread into the egg mixture and put them in the frying pan, two pieces at a time.

Mike read the expression on her face as one of disappointment. He wanted to hold her again, and sensed she wouldn't mind it either. One more week and she'll be gone, he reminded himself, all the while wondering how many more of these awkward moments he would find himself in between now and then.

A few days later, Julie got up at 6 am in the morning and made herself comfortable at a desk in the corner of Mike's living room where she sat for four hours handwriting out formulas from various experiments conducted at Science Frontiers nearly three years ago.

Mike busied himself that morning by writing out the monthly bills. He sat on the couch with a small box of envelopes, a booklet of stamps and a blue ballpoint pen in his hand. At 11 AM the phone rang and he reached for it with a quick "Hello."

He pushed the box of bills off of his lap and carefully placed the pens back inside. "She's great."

Hearing herself mentioned, Julie looked back at him.

"No, I don't think she'd mind. She needs to take a break from her work," he smiled. "All right. Just a few hours? We'll see you in a bit."

Julie watched him hang up the phone. "Who was it?"

"You'd better get ready. We've got company coming over."

"Who?" she asked, closing her black Mead notebook, and sticking a pen between the metal spiral which fastened it together.

"It's a surprise." Mike placed his box at the top of the desk. A bill dropped out of it, but he didn't notice it. He had already turned around and was heading for the bathroom.

Julie picked up the piece of paper, glancing down at the company title to which he owed money. It was from O'Brien Mental Facility. The total bill was for $6000.00 and Mike only wrote the check for $1500. There was also a delinquency notice stapled to the bill stating if they did not receive the full past due payment by May 8th, then Sean would be evicted and the claim would be turned over to a collection agency. Julie stuck the bill back in the box, regretting having seen it. She realized part of Mike's eagerness to get Sean back was because he was behind in the fees to keep him there. She thought if only she could hurry up and finish the project with Steve, then she could help Mike financially. It was the least she thought she owed him, for saving her life.

Around noon, after Mike straightened the living room and kitchen areas he went to answer the front door where Maggie Blodgett appeared holding CJ in one arm and a blue diaper bag in the other.

Recognition, imminent, CJ smiled from ear to ear as he saw his beloved "Nnnn Judy" sitting on the couch. Julie held out her arms as CJ quickly walked towards her, toting his own little brown bear.

"Don't pick him up," Maggie said, going over and lifting the little boy to sit on Julie's lap.

"Oh, CJ, Aunt Julie missed you," she said, drawing him near to herself. "Did you miss me, baby?"

"Judy," he grinned touching her lips with his little right hand.

"What?" she kissed his fingers.

Mike stood by and watched in amazement at the priceless exchange between her and the little guy.

"That's your new name," Maggie explained. "You sure you guys don't mind watching him?

"We're babysitting?" Julie smoothed some curly locks of blond hair across CJ's forehead.

"I'm going to try on the dress today."

"We don't mind."

Mike walked Maggie to the door as Julie reached for the diaper bag at her feet and pulled out several board books and plastic toys. "What are we going to do, CJ?"

"Bok!" He reached for the book in her hand and opened it to the first page. He found a picture of interest and pointed to it. "Cah."

"Yes, it is a car," Julie agreed, eying the image of a yellow Tonka truck.

Mike was suddenly there standing by her side. "If he gets to be too much, let me know and I'll try to help you."

"Mac." CJ pointed to him.

"That's Uncle Mike," Julie grinned.

"Mac," he said again. He held out the book to Mike and said, "Cah."

Mike laughed, "Last time we had this discussion you said your bear was a car."

"Bobo." He held out his teddy.

"You are so smart, CJ." Julie looked at Mike and mouthed the words "Thank you." Then hugged the boy and kissed his cheek.

Mike winked at her, the got up to return to writing checks. He retreated to his bedroom saying, "Holler if you need anything."

"We'll be fine."

After a few minutes of putting up with his Aunt Judy's kisses and cuddles, CJ slipped off her lap and began to explore Uncle Mac's house. He found everything he wasn't supposed to, like the open doorways which led into other rooms where trouble lay ahead waiting for him. The first place he investigated was the bathroom. He was humored by opening and closing the toilet lid. Julie grabbed him by the hand and led him out, closing the door behind them. Unable to lift him to the sink for a quick hand wash, she found some baby wipes in his diaper bag.

He let out a few screams of protest when she wiped his hands.

"That's uck, CJ."

Mike appeared in his bedroom doorway and asked, "Is something wrong?"

"I need you to go around and close all the doors."

When Julie let go of CJ he toddled off into the one room which didn't have a door, which was the kitchen. She pursued him with a feeling of dread. Sure enough, he found the cabinets and began pulling out the pots and pans. Julie leaned down and picked them up off the floor, shoving them into the cabinet.

"What now?" Mike asked.

"You need to childproof your house."

Julie pulled CJ by the hand back into the living room. All the while he struggled to break from her grasp. "Persistent little monkey, aren't you?"

Watching her, Mike chuckled. "He's going to wear you out."

Julie picked up a toy vehicle from the pile at the foot of the couch. "Look, CJ. What's this?"

Now free from her, he ran back into the kitchen.

Julie made a face at Mike.

"I'll get him," he said.

When Mike picked up CJ he cried and tried to push him away.

"Have anything to block the door with?" Julie asked, putting her arms around the boy for restraint as Mike sat him on the couch next to her.

"The couch?" he shrugged.

Julie took CJ by the hand again, and gestured he should get down. He followed her as she stepped out of Mike's way.

"Was Sean this much trouble when he was little?" she asked.

"Yeah, but we had stuff to keep him out of harms way." He shoved the sofa in front of the kitchen doorway.

After throwing a few tantrums which sent Mike checking in on him and Julie every now and then, CJ began to tug at his ears and rub his weary little blue eyes.

"I know what you need," Julie sang to him. She propped her pillow against the arm of the couch for what seemed like the umpteenth time and lay down.

CJ climbed up to be with her, and she pulled him down against herself.

Once Mike was done with his check writing, he realized he hadn't heard any screams of protest in a while. He opened his bedroom door and stepped out into the living room to see Julie asleep on the couch with the little one against her. The side of CJ's face was nestled against her bosom, and he had his right thumb in his mouth, sucking away peacefully. He too was sleeping. The scene brought tears to Mike's eyes. He began to think about the child Julie once miscarried, and realized had it survived, it would be about a year older than CJ was now. He couldn't help but wonder, if they'd had the child, would they still be together? And here she was, single, unattached and he was fully aware he didn't love her any less than he did a few years ago.


	45. When It's Time to Go Home

**44 When It's Time to Go Home**

The morning sounds of patients having breakfast in the dining hall at O'Brien Psychiatric Center now faded away. Mike Donovan watched the expression on his son's face, searching for clues. Again, the boy wasn't offering up any answers. He just sat there feeling tormented.

"Don't you want to come home on Saturday like we planned?" Mike asked.

"You know the answer to that question," Sean answered in a strained voice as his eyes clouded over with tears.

"I need you to tell me what happened then."

"Why? You never believe me anyway."

"That's not… true." Why do things have to be so damned difficult with him? He asked himself.

"It was just a stupid game. I didn't start it."

"What game?"

"The Nintendo System in the rec room. Jason had it for two hours. He wouldn't give it up," he paused. "So I unplugged it."

"You fought over a video game?" Mike couldn't believe Sean lost control over something so insignificant.

"He threw the first punch!" Sean looked back at his father. "It wasn't my fault!"

"Wouldn't it have been a lot simpler if you just went and told somebody?"

"That'd be childish and stupid. They never listen. Then they get mad at us when we try to handle our own problems."

"Well violence isn't the answer, Sean."

"I just told you I didn't start it!"

"Why did you hit him back?"

"I wasn't going to let him kick my ass!"

Mike thought about the five stitches Jason needed, being rushed to the emergency room in an ambulance. The fact Sean came out of the disagreement unscathed made him think about how violent he became over the years.

"But didn't we have this discussion? Didn't I tell you that you could only come home if there were no more incidents?"

"So what, I can't come home now?"

"I don't know, Sean!"

The boy stood silently for about a minute before asking, "What are you going to do, keep me here 'til I'm eighteen?"

"You know that's not what I want. I want you to come home and not to have to worry about you getting into trouble."

"I swear, I'll behave, Dad," he pleaded. "You don't know what it's like to be in here. There's always bullying and fighting, and the grownups don't even care. We just get punished over stupid stuff."

Sean's voice faded into the background as Mike thought about the figures of the mounting bills for this place. He knew there was no way to get it paid off as long as he kept Sean here.

"I'll come back Saturday and I'll take you home. But I'm warning you, if you don't straighten your act up, you're going to end up in a place a lot worse than this and even I won't be able to take you out of it."

Mike snatched his jacket from the back of the chair and headed straight to the double doors of the cafeteria.

Punching in figures on her computer, Juliet Parrish grinned at the results she was seeing. She jotted down a formula in her black notebook, and hurried to the kitchen phone to call Steve Maitland at work.

She went through the monotonous routine of being put on hold by the secretary and then waiting a few minutes before Steve answered the phone.

"Aquatech, Dr. Maitland."

"Steven," Julie said. "How's work going?"

"Fine. How are you?"

"Really good. Listen, um Donovan brought my computer over here and I've been transcribing the disks this past week. I think I just stumbled on that formula I was telling you about a few months ago. Remember those experiments we did at Niagra Falls last year?"

"Yeah."

"Well I have some data on samples I took back in spring of '84. I think the more recent samples are definitely showing signs of mutation. Can you get Maisy to fly out there and take some new ones? I'm planning on coming back to work on Monday. Maybe if we—"

"Are you all better, Julie?"

"I am feeling much better," she answered. "I'm going home in a few days. Now I won't be able to work full time for a couple months, but maybe with this new data we'll finally be able to wrap this up."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," she laughed. "I told Donovan I was going to take a cruise in the Mediterranean."

"Are you going alone?

Julie guessed what he meant to ask is if Mike was going with her. "I think so. What do you plan to do with the money?"

"I don't know yet. But I saw the Brook Cove up in Long Island is looking for a few good biochemists."

She smiled at the mention of Hannah Donnenfield's research facility. "Well I personally know Dr. Donnenfield. I could put in a good word for you.."

"You mean you'd let me leave L.A. just like that?"

Her smile faded. "I wouldn't stop you from doing what you wanted."

Julie heard the squeak of the living room door and realized Mike had just walked in. "Hey listen, I've gotta go. I'll see you on Monday."

"Bye Julie."

"Bye Steven."

Just as she was hanging up, Mike walked in the kitchen.

"I see you're packing," he said.

Julie remembered the heap of clothes on hangers, she left on his bed. She'd decided to take a break from that task about an hour ago, and ended up making her discovery on the disks.

"I'm sorry. I'll get back to it."

"I hope you're not overdoing it."

"Well I was feeling a little tired. I'll uh move the stuff off your bed. How's your son?"

"Difficult." He watched her head towards his bedroom and followed while mentally scolding himself for noticing the way her black polo shirt clung to her curvy form. He reached for the collection of hung clothes, laying on his bed and carried them into Sean's room. Julie had her large oversized suitcase laying on the floor and open. She walked in behind him and put a few more handfuls of stuff in there.

"You leave out a couple days' worth of things?" Mike asked.

"In your closet."

Now she was closer to him, he caught a whiff of her perfume and recognized it as being her favorite, and his. He wondered if she'd intentionally worn it.

Julie caught him staring at her and asked, "What?"

"Nothing."

With a slight shake of the head, and a smile, Julie headed back into his bedroom for another handful, wondering what was going through his mind. When he followed her she thought to tell him about Maitland's interest in going to New York thinking maybe it would jar Donovan's own interest in her.

"I think I found the formula to finish the project," she said. "I'm taking it in on Monday."

"Well that's great." He sat on the edge of his bed watching as she removed the few remaining items from his closet. He figured she wanted to keep them handy in Sean's room.

"Steve told me he's interested in going to work for Hannah Donnenfield at Brook Cove."

"Would you be interested in going too then?"

"No. I think I'll enjoy the peace and quiet of him being gone. I'm not sure why he's so anxious to look for work again though. He'll have enough to retire if all goes well."

"Well buying Science Frontiers wouldn't exactly be an early retirement for you either."

"No," she covered her mouth for a quick yawn. "Maybe I'll take a year off to decide how to fix it up."

"Maybe you should take the afternoon off to catch up on some rest. You can lay down in here."

"Would you be joining me, Mr. Donovan?" she teased.

"No, I think I'll run the sweeper instead."

"Oh, gee, darn." She pursed her lips together giving him a big frown.

"You'd better cool it or I might take you seriously," he warned.

"Is that supposed to be some sort of threat?"

He said nothing more and just walked out. Julie reasoned he couldn't do anything with her even if he wanted to because she still had a while yet to go for her recovery. The feeling she had towards him now bothered her. She reminded herself of Maggie Blodgett's lecture in the hospital about not letting him get to her. Somehow that advice went out the window. She realized maybe once she was back in her own house and not seeing him day in and day out, the feeling of wanting to start over again would fade away.

On Friday morning, Mike stood by Julie's side as she reached for the railing of the steps which led to her second story apartment.

"You sure you don't want me to carry you up there?"

She shook her head, and took one short step at a time. "I have to know if I can make it."

About ten steps later, she paused, feeling breathless. Mike put his hand against her back lightly incase she should fall.

"What I'm worried about is you going up and down them every day."

Julie drew a deep breath, trying to regain her stamina and proceeded on her way. Ten more steps and she reached the top. Finding her keys in her purse, she unlocked the door then, handed them to Mike.

"Could you check the mailbox?"

Not only did Mike go after her mail, but her other things from the car as Julie walked from room to room in her apartment. Everything was just as she left it the last time they came.

When Mike carried in the last load which contained her big suitcase and a smaller handbag, he laid the stuff on her bed. "You want help unpacking?" He studied her expression as she opened some more hospital bills.

Intent on what she was reading, Julie didn't answer.

"Hey." He touched her chin drawing her face up to look at him, brushing his fingertips along her jaw line. "You okay, kiddo?"

Her sad countenance told him she wasn't. He tried to read the paper, but found she was just as shielding of her financial issues as he was of his.

"You need help unpacking?"

"No," she said quietly. "You've done enough, Mike."

Gazing up at him, Julie knew about the tears in her eyes and the ache in her heart. She thought maybe if she just had the courage to say how she felt, then she'd know for sure if there was anything left between them. She reasoned if he said I love you first, then she would feel comfortable to say it back to him.

"What then?" he asked. "Are you scared to be on your own?"

"I'll be okay. You need to focus on Sean now."

He gave her a gentle squeeze.

This is the part where you tell me you still love me. Julie thought as she wiped her tears away.

"You sure you're okay?" He ran his hand down her soft hair.

"Fine." She stretched up and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome."

Julie grinned at him knowing he was stunned by her kiss. "Bye Michael."

"Bye Juliet."

Julie waited until she heard his car pull away before she let herself cry. She felt so foolish right now, hoping and wanting something that was supposed to have died a long time ago. She looked and saw the red gift bag full of Hershey's Kisses sitting on the end table, right where they'd been left the day when Mike took her home to nurse her back to health. She thought maybe the little card was still in there, and sure enough it was. She pulled it out and read it again, wondering if his sweet message was true.

…. My Juliet, my treasure…Inside this bag is a kiss for everyday we have been apart. Not a day has passed in which you haven't been in my heart. I'll love you always. –Michael Sean Donovan.

"I love you too," she whispered.

Authors note: If this were a scene in a series episode the camera would be zooming out as we watch Juliet in her living room reading Mike's note… the following song plays in the background…

Heartache by Bonnie Tyler

It's a heartache

Nothing but a heartache

Hits you when it's too late

Hits you when you're down

It's a fool's game

Nothing but a fool's game

Standing in the cold rain

Feeling like a clown.

It's a heartache

Nothing but a heartache.

Love him till your arms break

Then he lets you down.

It ain't right with love to share

When you find he doesn't care for you.

It ain't wise to need someone

As much as I depended on you.

It's a heartache

Nothing but a heartache

Hits you when it's too late

It ain't r'ight with love to share

Oh it's a heartache

Nothing but a heartache.

Love him till your arms break

Then he lets you down

It's a fool's game

Standing in the cold rain

Feeling like a clown.

It's a heartache

Love him till your arms break

Then he let's you down

It's a heartache


	46. Differences of Opinion

**45 Differences of Opinion**

Sean Donovan stared off at nothing as his father drove him to their home in Whittier, California. The kid thought of his mother whom Mike explained a long time ago, died during an explosion. His father said something about Marjorie's conversion and being used by Diana, but Sean didn't believe it himself. He didn't think his mother would ever use and betray his dad like the way Mike described. Mike said it was not out of spite or vengeance, but Diana used her

On that level, Sean was upset about the false promises made to him by Diana over two years ago. He wanted to be a Youth Leader, and teach other kids his age about Ravack, a fighting technique he learned from the brilliant Klaus. Sean still blamed his father for Klaus death. Sean thought he might have gotten to a higher rank in his class, if his father hadn't interfered. But now Klaus was dead and the Visitors were gone. His life seemed to serve very little purpose. He thought he'd hang out at his dad's place just as long as he could stand it, maybe until he was of age, and then go off and do his own thing.

The small Toyota Camry pulled in the driveway around 11 am that morning. Sean didn't let Mike help him carry his bags into the house. The boy headed straight for his room which was now tidy and organized. It made him angry, that his dad would just go through his things,

Sean began opening dresser drawers to find his music and video game collection each neatly stacked. He also found socks and underwear folded and arranged by color. He'd been gone for almost four months now and realized his father was probably ashamed of the way he kept his room. He thought if his dad wanted to bring that Megan Foxx bitch over, then it was none of her concern what his bedroom looked like. Mike should have just closed the door.

Sean went to his closet and found the clothes neatly organized and hung too.

"You doin okay?" Mike hung back in the doorway observing.

"No," Sean muttered angrily. "What the hell did you do to my stuff?"

"Cleaned up. You have to admit the room needed it." He tried to offer a compassionate wink, but Sean wanted none of it. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have it back to normal in no time. What do you want for lunch? I can order pizza."

"I want you to keep my damned hands off my stuff!"

Mike turned back asking, "What?!"

Sean reached for his super model pinups, the car posters, a calendar and every thing that decorated his bedroom walls. He tore them all down, crumpling some of them, and tearing up others.

"I like my room messy. You should have left well enough alone!"

"Knock it off!" Mike reached for him, forcing his hands down at his side to free one of the remaining posters from destruction.

Sean struggled to break loose but unfortunately his father was stronger than he was and Mike pinned him to the floor in no time. When Sean freed an arm, he tried to strike his father square in the cheek, but Mike caught his fist.

"SEAN, STOP IT!" He pinned the kid down to the ground with both arms behind his back. "Do you want to go back there?"

"At least they respected my things," Sean muttered feeling the sting of carpet pressed against the side of his face.

Mike let him go. "Well maybe if you would show me some respect by keeping your own damned room clean, I wouldn't have to."

"Go to hell!"

Sean slammed the bedroom door behind his father who retreated to the living room, uncertain of what he should do. Even as he sat on the couch, Mike could hear Sean overturning furniture and breaking things. Not even an hour passed before he called the police to help escort his son back to the psychiatric center.

Pulling into her driveway at 12:30 p.m. Maggie Blodgett noticed an unfamiliar, shiny, vehicle in her driveway. Juliet Parrish got out of the passenger seat of Maggie's car and unhooked little CJ from his seat. Maggie stepped around to lower CJ down to the pavement because Julie was still too weak to lift him.

"You have company?" Julie asked.

"I don't know."

The two women stepped inside the small house to find Chris Faber and Ham Tyler sitting on the living room couch.

"Is that a new car, Ham?" Maggie asked, setting CJ down on the living room floor. He immediately got back up and tugged at Julie's hand.

"A new used car," the balding ex-CIA operative said.

"What happened to the other one?" Julie asked, sitting on the couch next to him. CJ immediately climbed up into her lap and began talking in his toddler gibberish.

"He got rid of it a few weeks ago," Chris muttered. "Said the engine went bad."

Julie remembered the story on the news about how the cops couldn't trace the tire tracks of Pico's murder suspect's vehicle. "Really, Ham? So where's your old car?"

"Gone," he flashed her a half smile. "How's Gooder?"

"He's picking up Sean today."

"Probably won't see him for another year or two then," Chris said.

"Why?" she asked.

"Cuz when he's dealin with his kid the rest of the world don't exist. You know that," he explained. "He hadn't talked to nobody in almost two years until you had your little reconnaissance mission with him. "

"What a reconnaissance mission that was," Julie said sourly, feeling CJ slam his head against her right breast where the incision was still in the healing process. "Ow! CJ!" she gasped.

Maggie came and took the boy away from Julie.

"I guess he's a little too rough for you yet," she apologized.

"Do you think you could persuade Donovan to be an usher at our wedding?" Chris asked.

Julie found herself wondering why the responsibility would fall on her, and if Mike would mind her calling his house with Sean home.

"I don't know. He's kind of busy with Sean, like you said."

"You don't think he'd come to the wedding?" Maggie sat down next to Chris and shoved his son towards him.

"Why don't you just send him an invitation?" Julie suggested.

"We need an usher," Chris restated.

"Really, we need two ushers," Maggie added looking at him. "Did you call Kyle and ask him yet?"

"He said yeah, and he accepted your invitation to Easter too. Said something about Robin and Polly coming too."

"You're having Easter here. How come I wasn't invited?" Julie mock pouted.

"We wouldn't forget you, hon," Maggie told her.

"Ham's coming," Chris nodded at his friend.

"Really, Ham? Will you wear a Bunny costume for CJ?" Julie teased.

"Hah hah hah, not funny," he glared at her.

Julie and Chris giggled, both remembering the year Ham dressed up as Santa Claus.

"What's so funny?" Maggie asked.

"Oh, I can just see it," Julie smiled mischievously. "Ham with some long white and pink bunny ears. He'd be so cute!"

She, Maggie and Chris laughed hysterically.

Ham found no humor in the situation "What kind of drugs do they have you on?"

"Very little now." She admitted.

Chris cleared his throat. "So Julie, when you talk to Donovan and tell him we need an usher, you can also tell him about our little shin dig for Easter, and tell him he can invite his kid too."

"Umm… it's your wedding and your shin dig. You call Mike and ask him." "Is something wrong between you and Mike, hon?" Maggie asked.

"No."

"Started to get on your nerves after spending a little too much time over there, huh?" Chris teased her.

"He was fine."

"Uh huh," he muttered flashing Ham a knowing look.

"Well how bout I'll tell him about the usher thing and the Easter invitation when he calls to check on me."

"You sound pretty sure of that," he chuckled.

"What are you implying, Chris?" she said angrily.

"He's just teasing you," Maggie smiled. "Every since the day you forgot you were babysitting for our little munchkin here, Chris thought there was something going on between you and Mike."

"Right. I was dying and he took advantage of me!" She stared at Chris. "For your information he's been quite a respectable gentleman through all this!"

"That's cuz he's a do-Gooder. That's what do-Gooder's do."

"Well whatever the reason, I'm grateful he did what he did, and no there is nothing going on between us. We're just friends."

Seeing that Julie had enough of Chris' teasing accusation Maggie interrupted the conversation. "The fabric swatches are in my bedroom, Julie. Let's go have a look at them."

"Fine!" Julie got up and followed Maggie.

After she was out of ear shot Chris turned to Ham and said, "Man, is she ticked."


	47. Regrets of Yesterday

**46 Regrets of Yesterday**

On Saturday evening Mike sat on a tall bar stool at Kelly's watching in silence as Becky served other patrons. It was a busy night, complete with the Celtic dancers and band. Normally he would've enjoyed it, but he just wasn't in a good mood.

Becky stopped in front of him and set a beer bottle on the counter.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Mike."

"I've been a little busy," he admitted, unsmiling.

"Oh yeah? How's your friend doing?"

"She's good." He hoped Julie was still doing better, having not called her yet today. He knew she would probably assume he was busy getting Sean settled and maybe it was just as well.

"How's your kid doing?"

"Not so good."

Becky glanced around the pub to see no other customer needed her attention at this moment in time. Mike seemed to need her more right now.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"I went and picked him up this morning, and brought him home. We had a disagreement and he went off in a fit of rage. He's back up there."

"Aw, hon. I'm sorry." She touched his hand. "You know you can always talk to me. It's just I'm really busy tonight."

"I see that," he forced a smile. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Reaching for her order pad and tearing off one of the sheets, she asked "Are you free tomorrow?"

"I'm off," he admitted.

She turned the sheet over and scribbled down her number.

"Well, why don't you call me in the morning? Maybe we can go out for lunch or something and talk."

He wondered if she was really interested in just talking. "I don't know. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."

"Nonsense," Becky grinned. "Kelly knows who you are. She wouldn't mind."

Mike pocketed the number thinking, Maybe I would. Instead he said, " I'll think about it."

Julie was in her lab Wednesday morning examining the latest water sample flown in from Niagara Falls, grateful a handful of dedicated researchers were willing to go out and get what she needed at her beckon and call.

Across the room Steve sat behind Julie's desk with his feet propped up on it, going over all her handwritten notes from the Science Frontiers disks.

"This is incredible, Julie." He was surprised at the amount of experiments she conducted in the short year she worked for Nathan Bates. "It's amazing you found the time to do all this, and work for the resistance."

"We all made sacrifices," she murmured thinking of the overworked hours, and Bates always pushing her for more, or how she'd had little time for a social life, or her love life for the matter. It still made her angry.

She thought about Mike Donovan and how he called her Sunday afternoon. He sounded very distracted, and wouldn't go into any details as to how Sean was doing. She wondered how it was all working out, since Mike would have to go to work in the afternoons through evening and leave the kid unattended for hours. Feeling guilty for her own wishes to be with Mike again, she'd insisted she would be okay, and he didn't need to check on her every day. She again reminded him there were a few other friends who lived closer and didn't have so much going on if she needed anything. But Julie still missed, and thought about him constantly, thinking about what could've been had that last war not screwed up their relationship so bad.

As she and Steve continued their studies in the lab that morning a song came on the easy listening station, and it just set Julie's mind to wondering again...

_I'm lying alone with my head on the phone_

_Thinking of you till it hurts_

_I know you hurt too but what else can we do_

_Tormented and torn apart_

_I wish I could carry your smile in my heart_

_For times when my life seems so low_

_It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring_

_When today doesn't really know, doesn't really know_

_I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you_

_I know you were right, believing for so long_

_I'm all out of love, what am I without you_

_I can't be too late to say I was so wrong_

_I want you to come back and carry me home_

_Away from these long, lonely nights_

_I'm reaching for you, are you feeling it too?_

_Does the feeling seem oh, so right?_

_And what would you say if I called on you now_

_And said that I can't hold on?_

_There's no easy way, it gets harder each day_

_Please love me or I'll be gone, I'll be gone_

_I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you_

_I know you were right, believing for so long_

_I'm all out of love, what am I without you_

_I can't be too late to say I was so wrong_

_Ooh, what are you thinking of?_

_What are you thinking of?_

_What are you thinking of?_

_What are you thinking of?_

_(All Out of Love by: Air Supply)_

Before Julie knew it, she was crying, uncontrollable sobs. She felt silly knowing all of the lyrics didn't fit her situation, but a lot of them did. She thought about that night Mike walked her to the deli, acknowledging what they'd both known was true. It was over between them. In her heart and mind, as Julie listened to the song, she relieved all the pain and uncertainty of that evening, and she now wished instead of going back to the women's dormitory and balling her eyes out like a child, she'd tried to give Mike some reassurance, because if she'd done that, maybe they'd still be together. Maybe she wouldn't be hurting this way now… and maybe Steve Maitland wouldn't be standing in front of her with a worried look on his face.

"Julie what's wrong?"

"I'm okay," she whispered through her tears.

"Um, no you're not." He reached for a Kleenex from the book shelf and handed it to her.

The chorus to the Air Supply song continued and so did Julie's thoughts of telling Mike how she felt about him. She got up and turned the radio off, hoping maybe it would relieve her torment.

"It's the song, isn't it?" Steve asked. "Are you thinking about Donovan?"

"Leave me alone!"

"Are you in love with him?" he said skeptically.

She swallowed the pain in her throat way mumbling, "It doesn't matter."

"Does that mean you are?"

He continued to try to hold her gaze. Julie cleared her throat, and moved away. "I'm just not feeling well today. Tell them I'm sorry. I need to go home."

She gathered her purse, her briefcase and some other things, going in to the ladies room to freshen up before she went up to the front lobby and called a cab. When the secretary asked her what was wrong, she just simply explained she overexerted herself, and didn't have as much strength back as she thought she did. She said she would come back to work tomorrow, and planned to, only hoping Steve would have the sense not to grill her about her feelings for Mike.


End file.
